


Hot, blue and righteous

by Mistofstars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Castiel is a judge, Dean is a cop, Domestic Violence, Domesticity, Drama, Fluff, HAPPY ENDING PROMISED, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Previous death of side characters, Romance, Sadness, Sappy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, feel good story, mentions of Castiel / Aaron (original side character), mentions of Lisa Braeden / Dean Winchester, nothing supernatural here, terrible attempts of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 168,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistofstars/pseuds/Mistofstars
Summary: On the night of Sam’s graduation ball, Dean meets a guy called Castiel, and their insane chemistry instantly sets the air on fire, ending in a one-night-stand. However, it remains a one-off, and life continues. Three years pass, in which Dean meets Lisa and Castiel meets Aaron. After Lisa’s sudden death, Dean takes some time off from his work as a police officer and travels across the states to deal with his grief of losing Lisa. After Dean returns to his normal life again, he visits Bobby, staying with him for a few weeks. One night, Bobby gets an emergency call, and a beaten-up Castiel seeks shelter in Bobby’s house, far away from his abusive boyfriend Aaron. Both Castiel and Dean are certain they can never fall in love again after what had happened to them – but as soon as you start making plans, life happens.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 124
Kudos: 110
Collections: The Destiel Self-Rec Favs Collection





	1. Sam's graduation ball

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** None of the Supernatural universe characters belong to me, and they are not my invention. I don’t make any money with this, I just spent countless hours of my time writing this for my own pleasure… No copyright infringement intended. The title of the story derives from the same-named ZZ Top song.
> 
>  **Publishing rhythm:** Every week (Sunday evening or Wednesday evening / Thursday morning)
> 
>  **Author’s note:**  
>  Hey, thanks for giving this story a go!  
> A few things you might want to know before digging into this story.  
> 1: There’s a lot of Bobby in here as a major side character, because I love Bobby as a father substitute figure, and don’t we all love his grumpy but adorable ways? I just love Bobby Singer, period. Also, because of that, I had to add the word “idjit” to my Microsoft Word dictionary lol.
> 
> 2: There won’t be detailed graphic descriptions of domestic violence, more on a side note, because I don’t really like violence for violence’s sake – it’s reduced to a minimum to serve the plot. 
> 
> 3: I think Bobby’s kitchen should be added as a stand-alone side character, because it appears in this story a frigging lot. But life is where the kitchen is, isn’t it? Or is this just my Corona lockdown talking… 
> 
> 4: What else? Well, it’s actually a story about Dean and Cas falling in love against all odds at turning points in their lives and sticking together through thick and thin. Nothing supernatural in this world. But a lot of domesticity and FEELS. 
> 
> 5: Happy ending promised. Like my good old friend Bilbo Baggins used to advise “Books ought to have good endings” (as should all lengthy fanfictions, if you ask me).
> 
> 6: This is the first lengthy (I consider + 15 k lengthy) multi-chaptered fic I wrote in a long, long time. My life has also been turned upside down very much in the last years, so this was a first step to let my confidence grow again, and very much therapeutic work for me. 
> 
> 7: Your feedback is always welcome. If you can, leave me a review, you’ll make my day!
> 
> ________
> 
>  **A tracklist of all the appearing songs in this story is here on Youtube:**  
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erWB_HRV6Cw&list=PLJA9XqQwbteRXaARDPpWdIYEA4vKOiXpY
> 
> None of the lyrics / songs are of course mine, no copyright infringement intended.  
> This is the tracklist of songs appearing in order:
> 
>  Hot, blue and righteous – ZZ Top (Chapter 1)  
>  Waiting around to die – Be good Tanyas (Chapter 2)  
>  The devil’s chasing me – Reverend Horton Heat (Chapter 7)  
>  Masquerade Waltz by Aram Khachaturian (Chapter 7)  
>  Midnight Special – traditional song (Chapter 7)  
>  Into my arms – Nick Cave (Chapter 8)  
>  Can’t you see – The Marshall Tucker Band (Chapter 8)  
>  Time to travel – Sue Foley (Chapter 8)  
>  You sexy thing – Hot Chocolate (Chapter 8)  
>  Paranoid – Black Sabbath (Chapter 14)  
>  Aeolian Harp – Chopin (Chapter 16)  
>  Mall (English Translation) – Eugent Bushpepa (Chapter 17)  
>  Lullaby – The Cure (Chapter 17)

**Chapter 1 - Sam’s graduation ball**

_Hot, blue and righteous,_

_An angel called me aside._

_Hot, blue and righteous,_

_Said, "Stick by me and I'll be your guide."_

_I heard the words as I closed my eyes_

_Down on my, down on my bended knees._

_It fit like a glove and I realized_

_Somethin' good's happenin' to me._

…

The assembly hall was plunged into semi-darkness, interrupted by rotating colorful rays of headlights. Fairy lights hung on every wall, twinkling mysteriously and creating a cozy atmosphere at the same time. There were countless rows of chairs arranged in front of the stage – chairs for all the graduates and their friends and families. The assembly hall was filled with a dressed-up audience, and there was the sound of innumerable conversations and laughter in the air. It smelt of beer and champagne, flowery perfume and tangy aftershave. Soon the program for the evening would start, along with the handing out of the certificates to the graduates, so everyone started sitting down on their respective seats.

Dean straightened his dark blue tie, feeling terribly uncomfortable in the navy-blue tuxedo he was wearing. Yeah, he was looking great – but at what cost? The thin material of the trousers was itchy, and his white shirt felt stiff. However, the appreciative looks he was receiving from men and women alike (and from all ages, on top of that) was rewarding, he had to admit that to himself. For Sam’s great night, he had wanted to look his best, considering it was a once in a lifetime event, and that they would probably take some pictures as well…

His eyes darted to Sam and his girlfriend Jess, and he couldn’t help but grin amusedly. Sam was wearing a black tuxedo, but he looked as if he hadn’t quite grown into it yet. His shaggy brown hair was an untameable chaos – but his eyes were brimming over with joy, and his wide grin seemed glued to his mouth. His mirth was infectious. Dean couldn’t help but feel proud of him. He studied Sam beholding Jess, and the two were so adorable, it made Dean a little wistful, for they seemed so right together, and Dean still hadn’t found “the right one”. He doubted by now that he would ever find a person fitting to him perfectly. He was 27 years old by now, and apart from countless flings and short-lived relationships, he had never been in a long-term, committed relationship. When he beheld Jess regarding Sam with such a fond expression in her eyes, and them holding hands while they talked intimately, he knew however that this thing between her and his younger brother was something serious, that this looked like true love. He pushed his glum thoughts aside and simply allowed himself to be happy for his brother, to enjoy the night.

When he sat down next to Sam and Jess, Dean watched the other graduates and their beloved ones close by, waiting for the event to begin. He saw many parents and even a few grandparents, and he wished their father would have been here tonight. He would have been so proud. John had died two years ago, and it had nearly thrown Sam off track, he had almost quit studying, hadn’t it been for Dean. Yes, John’s sudden death had been hard on them… but here they were, and Sam was about to receive the fruits of his long hard labor. Dean turned his head and realized Sam was watching him for his part, a thoughtful mien darkening his features.

“What are you brooding over?” Sam asked, knowing his big brother only too well. Dean shrugged his shoulders and laughed a little. Damn Sam and his puppy eyes, getting to his innermost thoughts without much ado.

“I was just thinking Dad should have been here tonight. He would have been so proud of you, Sammy. I know for a fact that I am," he said quietly, leaning over to him so that only Sam could hear him. A moved expression appeared in Sam’s eyes, and he nodded, too taken aback to speak. Dean squeezed his shoulder once and breathed in deeply, breathing the arising pain in his chest away. Then the lights were dimmed and the spotlight was shining on the stage. The first orator came on stage, and the evening began.

The speeches were long and embarrassing, yet sometimes also funny, and there were intermissions, in which the university’s school bands performed several songs for the audience. Dean barely listened, neither to the speakers nor the mediocre band, and he was already half dozing off when there was one orator, who suddenly caught his attention fully. The principal of the law school, an elderly and chubby, white-haired man, introduced the orator.

“And now I would like to call up a former student some of you may remember. He was the valedictorian three years ago and graduated _summa cum laude_ , and is now the youngest judge ever in history in the state of South Dakota. Please give a loud applause for Castiel Novak!”

Dean wouldn’t have thought much about this, except that probably a nerd would take the stage soon, hadn’t it been for Jessica’s excited squeal and Sam’s huffed “awesome”. He turned his head to the couple and frowned, and Jess caught his look and explained in a whisper that Castiel was considered as an inspiration and role model to the students. Dean considered this a little weird, but he just accepted it and concentrated on the guy, who was now appearing on the stage. He had black short hair, accurately combed to one side, and he wore a scarlet tuxedo with a black tie. His physique was slender and athletic at the same time, and Dean really didn’t mind the eye candy. Oh, he was willed to listen to this man for hours, if he could only look at him, he thought to himself, and smiled stupidly.

Then Castiel started speaking into the microphone, and his raspy baritone filled the assembly hall effortlessly. His voice went right to Dean’s core, he could feel it vibrate within his body. Shell-shocked he stared at this young man, who harbored such a dark and impressive voice.

“When I started studying at this university, I was a young man looking for a purpose, for my place in this society," Castiel began his speech, his voice calm and dark. Even from a distance, Dean could see a little smirk coming to life on his plush pink lips as he obviously remembered a time long gone.

“And the more I stayed here, the more I understood that’s there’s a beautiful truth in studying law, which can’t be found in any other study path – that, in our established system of justice, every man and every woman is innocent, until proven otherwise, that all of us are pristinely innocent. Bear with me," he laughed a little, “I was young and naïve, and full of hopes. It didn’t take long until I realized what was waiting out there for me in the real world. All the graduates tonight, you are now able to tell by law whether someone needs to be sentenced or not; you know all the ways to defend a client. You know all the paragraphs and laws, how to deal with evidence or the lack of it. What I want to give to you, though, tonight, is that indeed not all human beings are as pristinely innocent as I had learned and hoped.”

Castiel made a little pause, heavy with meaning, and looked at the audience, full with intent.

“There’s truly evil in this world, and you hold the power to defy this evil and see it behind bars," his voice boomed and his serious mien made everyone stare back at him flabbergasted, not knowing what to think of his words. Suddenly, the entrance music started, and thus Castiel’s speech was terminated. Castiel continued staring at them all with dark and piercing looks, but then he smiled a little, nodded to himself and left the stage. It wasn’t completely clear whether he had meant to finish his speech like this or whether someone had decided to cut him off, but Dean was certain the latter had happened. There was a confused murmur among the crowd, and even some giggles here and there, but overall, the audience was startled and perplexed after Castiel’s gloomy speech.

Dean turned his head to Sam and Jess, beholding them with a frown.

“What the hell was that?” he asked under his breath. Sam just shrugged his shoulders and grinned a little.

“Castiel is known to be pretty religious. Maybe he took this whole good versus evil thing way too much to heart," Sam explained, whereupon Jess nodded affirmatively. Dean brooded over the strange speech Castiel had delivered; he couldn’t get his intense look out of his head, how his eyes seemed to burn with a righteousness and certainty Dean had never seen before. But then, his attention returned to the here and now - finally, the graduates were called on stage and received their certificates – since it was an alphabetical order, it took ages until Sam was called up, as Winchester came pretty much at the end of the alphabet. Dean felt as if he had ants in his pants, he was so excited, he couldn’t sit still. When Sam was called on stage and received his certificate, Dean jumped up and clapped enthusiastically, blithe he made an utter fool of himself. He was reacting like an overeager proud parent cheering his son on, but he just couldn’t help it. He was truly happy, filled with warm bliss from head to toe when he watched Sam’s content smile. It seemed to Dean that Sam caught his look, even from the stage, and that they regarded one another for a second, both of them just merry and lost in the moment.

…

After the long evening with plenty of speeches and clapping, many guests left and went home; the graduates, as well as their friends and some family members, who weren’t falling asleep already, stayed behind, however, and the merrymaking continued. The band was showing off their whole repertoire, and once all the rows of chairs had been put on top of each other, there was enough space to dance and to intermingle with the crowd. There even was a small buffet and a seemingly inexhaustible stock of champagne and beer. Dean was just drinking his second bottle of beer with zest, enjoying the cool beverage down his throat, while he looked around. Everyone was jolly, and the atmosphere was inebriated and loose.

Dean was planning on staying a little while longer, just for the fun of it. He watched Sam and Jess dancing to a slow song, how Sam whispered something in her ear and made her giggle. Dean shook his head in amusement and emptied his bottle, thinking Sammy might have picked up one or two tricks from his older brother after all.

Then Dean walked to the buffet and placed his empty bottle on the table, noticing that someone did the same at the same time, and their hands brushed together accidentally. He turned his head and was about to apologize for being so clumsy when his tongue got stuck in his throat. Blue eyes. He was drowning in deep blue eyes, which beheld him with a contemplative mood. Dean gulped heavily as these eyes were making him nervous, all hot and cold inside; he let his eyes travel to a kissable mouth with lush pink lips, then to the raven black, neatly combed hair. Castiel! The dude from before, who had given this strange speech…

Dean knew he was staring, but he just couldn’t stop. He was behaving stupidly, like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Castiel didn’t seem to mind. He gave Dean an approving once-over, undressing him with bedroom eyes. His confidence was sexy and made Dean tense up, all fidgety inside. Heat rose in his cheeks and he suddenly felt a little shy. Castiel smirked at him and tilted his head to one side.

“I’m sorry. Have we met?” Castiel asked. His dark voice made Dean’s skin crawl effortlessly. Dean found his composure again and smiled a little. He allowed himself to eye Castiel up and down as well, liking what he was seeing. His breath faltered somewhat and he laughed the tension away.

“No, I guess not. Though I heard you up on stage. That was one hell of a speech," he said with a wink. Castiel seemed to understand his roguish sense of humor because he grinned and nodded approvingly.

“Yeah, you might say that. I guess I got carried away with my beliefs”, Castiel admitted abashedly. A moment elapsed between them, in which they just beheld the other attentively, curiously, both probably wondering where this might end. Finally, Castiel reached out his hand and introduced himself. “I’m Castiel, by the way," he said – and Dean took his hand and shook it once, firmly, marveling at the strength of Castiel’s slender long fingers.

“Nice to meet you, Castiel. I’m Dean.”

Castiel let go of Dean’s hand and opened two new beer bottles, handing one to Dean, who accepted it gratefully. They clinked bottles and drank a few gulps. Then Castiel turned around again, half of his body turned to Dean, ignoring any idea of personal space. He stared deeply into Dean’s eyes, the faintest hint of a smile dancing on Castiel’s lips. Dean could feel the heat of his body, blanketing his own, could smell his breath, could almost taste the beer on Castiel’s lips. His head started spinning. Phew, this guy was something else. Dean lost himself in Castiel’s beautiful eyes, and he felt this sudden urge to throw his arms around Castiel’s neck and kiss him senseless. Castiel bit on his bottom lip as he regarded Dean, his body language and looks oozing with appetite. Damn, he was so hot…

“So, what brings you here, Dean? I guess you’re a little too old for graduating tonight?” Castiel asked quietly, coming even a step closer towards Dean, his voice dark and seductive. Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he understood Castiel was really hitting on him, and honestly, he didn’t mind. He was just surprised about himself, that a guy could make him so flabbergasted and awkward within seconds. Usually, Dean was the one who ensnared others. He huffed out a small laugh and returned Castiel’s look openly, they locked eyes. It was incredibly sexy to Dean how Castiel watched him, how his pupils dilated, how he watched what kind of effect he and his nearness had on Dean. Where was a god damn room? They needed a room right frigging now.

“Actually, I’m here because of my brother. He is the one, who graduated.”

Castiel smiled and put his beer bottle down on the table again. It didn’t matter what he or Dean were saying, Dean thought, he was already too gone for Castiel, and his mind couldn’t think straight. He just wanted him, was craving for him, and everything else was time-consuming nonsense. Castiel must have thought the same, for when he turned his body once more to Dean, Dean felt two strong hands on his hips, gripping them tightly. Dean’s heart somersaulted, and his breathing faltered, as he stared at Castiel devouring him with dark blue eyes, their look intent and heavy with meaning.

“So, that means I can’t abduct you somewhere else?” he whispered, his face suddenly very close. Dean could feel the exhaled words on his bottom lip. Castiel’s hands on his hips, holding him close. Heat bubbled in his abdomen, made him half-hard in his blue tuxedo trousers. He felt completely like braindead goo. He hungered for Castiel’s kisses, for his passion. Dean felt his lids droop, fraught with lust, as he took one step closer to Castiel, towards his heat. He tilted his head a little, and their lips almost touched. With glee, Dean noticed how Castiel tensed up now, overwhelmed with yearning. Dean could see what he was doing to him, and he liked it. Castiel’s fingers on his hip dug into the pliant flesh, stirring up a burning, all-consuming need within Dean so that he nearly lost all his thoughts.

“I think I can make an exception for you," Dean replied, and a cocky grin came to his mouth. A satisfied smile appeared on Castiel’s mouth then. He beheld Dean with an enigmatic smile, a fire burning in his eyes. He tilted his head, so that his lips almost touched Dean’s, their eyes locked. Dean could feel Castiel’s exhales against his own mouth, so hot, so tickling, so provoking… he nearly gave in and was about to kiss him.

“Follow me," Castiel rasped against his lips, just so that Dean could hear him. Before Dean knew what was happening, Castiel had turned around and walked away, to one end of the assembly hall. There in the darkness, where all the headlights and fairy lights vanished, Dean could recognize a door Castiel was heading to. For a second, Dean just appreciated the given view, how Castiel’s hips were swinging from left to right seductively, the perfect curve of his ass. He bit on his bottom lip, feeling the growing appetite raging within him. When Castiel had reached the door, he produced a key from his trouser pocket and unlocked it. Then he turned around and looked for Dean – and even despite the distance of a few meters between them, Dean could see the mischievous sparkle glistening in Castiel’s eyes, the sly smirk as he regarded Dean, who was a little indecisive whether he would give in to temptation or resist. When their eyes met, Dean knew the choice had already been made. He took a deep breath and followed Castiel.

When he had reached him, the black-haired man placed a gentle hand on the small of Dean’s back and held the door open for him. He guided him into the dark corridor, where almost a dozen classrooms slept in the dusty quiet. Once the door fell close behind them, the music and the noises of the crowd were nearly gone, just a faint echo in the distance. Castiel walked on with intent, obviously knowing his ways around here, and knowing exactly where he wanted to go. Dean couldn’t help but wonder about that.

“How come you’ve got any keys?” he questioned when Castiel unlocked another door expertly. He didn’t look at Dean, but even in the twilight, Dean recognized the amused grin on Castiel’s mouth.

“Dean, I was one of the top students here, the valedictorian of my year. There were a lot of professors in my days who entrusted me with plenty of things; even with a master key.”

“And you kept it," Dean laughed, making Castiel chuckle in return and shrug his shoulders.

“Well… yeah," he laughed. They walked into the room, and Dean shut the door behind them. They were in a semi-dark dusty classroom. It smelt of old wooden tables and chairs, paired with the scent of chalk and the mustiness of the ancient, cheap carpet on the floor. Dean felt removed to his teenage years and was reminded how much he had hated school.

But now he looked at Castiel, who was standing in front of him, considering him with a little smile playing on his mouth. Dean held on to the door behind him, leaned back against it, overwhelmed with the intensity of arousal coursing through his system; he felt weak at the knees, his stomach was on pins and needles. It had something to do with the way Castiel was looking at him, piercingly, knowingly, and when he took one step closer towards Dean, and then another, and another… Suddenly, Castiel was right in Dean’s personal space, both his hands placed next to Dean’s head against the door. Dean watched Castiel’s eyes scanning his face, taking in Dean’s features with pleasure. A subtle smile was flitting across his sensual mouth when a breathy moan escaped Dean unwillingly. It was the final straw. Castiel leaned in slowly, carefully, and Dean watched him close his lids as if in slow-motion, coming nearer and nearer… On their own, Dean’s lids fell shut, his whole body vibrating in joyful anticipation.

Then Castiel’s lips met his with force, kissing Dean with skill. Dean moaned when Castiel pressed his body completely against his, pressing Dean into the door. Their bellies and hips were touching; Dean felt the strength of Castiel’s body, the weight of it, and it made him melt right on the spot. He kissed Castiel back, consumed his lips with longing. He heard and felt Castiel’s moan against his own mouth when he dared to slip his tongue between Castiel’s lips, intensifying their kisses.

While they kissed, Dean felt Castiel’s hands suddenly on his waistband, fumbling vigorously with his belt. Dean’s heart was thrumming when he disentangled from Castiel for a second, trying to catch his breath. Through half-opened eyes, he contemplated Castiel, who was studying Dean silently for his part. Castiel looked absolutely wrecked in his lust, wild and gorgeous at the same time. His hair was ruffled, and then Dean noticed how his own hands were carding through Castiel’s hair, twisting the strands playfully between his fingers. He hadn’t even realized he had brought his hands up to Castiel’s hair. He let Castiel undo his belt and then his fly, feeling his hands work on his body. Dean followed his heart’s desire when his fingers traveled down Castiel’s temple, his chin, sensing the stubble on his fingertips, down to his veined throat, where his skin was so delicate...

He stopped when his hands came to rest on Castiel’s collarbone, his dress shirt blocking the way for Dean. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to undress Castiel now, how far the other guy wanted this to go… But then Castiel beheld him with dark, knowing eyes – blindly he reached for one of Dean’s hands and put it in his lap, making Dean feel the hot, hard bulge in his trousers. Dean gulped thickly, gently squeezing and massaging Castiel’s clothed erection, whereupon Castiel just sighed and canted his hips towards Dean’s busy hand.

With grim satisfaction, Dean watched Castiel close his lids, overwhelmed with yearning, how Castiel’s mouth fell open as one moan after the other fell from his lips. It awoke a strange possessiveness within Dean to see Castiel fall apart so beautifully; he wanted to see Castiel lose himself, wanted to see him come undone. With a sudden boost of confidence, Dean seized Castiel by the hips and made him walk backward, kissing him closed-eyed and with all he had. They bumped into one of the tables, giggling against each other’s mouth while kissing.

Dean made Castiel lie down on his back on the table behind them. For a second, he withdrew and beheld the given sight – Castiel in his scarlet tuxedo, with dark ruffled hair, breathing heavy, as he beheld Dean with a little smile. Dean acted on his craving for him, and let his fingers skillfully open Castiel’s shirt, button per button. Castiel tensed up, and his breathing accelerated, the more buttons Dean opened. Then Dean’s hands brushed the white fabric aside, revealing Castiel’s gorgeous lithe torso, his tanned skin. Dean let his hands glide over the expanse of Castiel’s chest lustfully, enjoying the sensation of Castiel’s smooth skin underneath his fingertips. He studied Castiel’s face mesmerized, realizing how wrecked the other guy became by the minute, due to Dean’s caresses. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he bit on his bottom lip in a tortured yet sensual way. Dean’s mouth was watering at the given sight. He felt how tight his trousers were becoming, felt his hard-on pressing against the constrictions of his boxers.

With pent-up desire, he stroked along the inner sides of Castiel’s clothed thighs, feeling the electric wave coursing through his body, how he tensed up with want. It was as if he was unwrapping a gift when Dean dared to undo Castiel’s belt and slowly pull down the fly of his pants. Stunned he watched the thick outline of Castiel’s dick in his cerulean silken briefs. An insatiable hunger suffused Dean, as he let his forefinger stroke along the line of Castiel’s erection gingerly, exerting just the tiniest amount of pressure to pleasure the other man. Castiel inhaled with a hiss, buckling up his hips as an unmistakable invitation to Dean. Dean gulped thickly when their eyes met. The fire within Castiel’s look was all-consuming passion, the need for relief bringing a tortured frown to his forehead. The constant pulsing of hot blood in Dean’s dick was also getting more persistent; he felt his erection twitch impatiently, longing for the same relief Castiel was chasing.

While beholding Castiel all the while, Dean slowly pulled down Castiel’s briefs and tuxedo trousers in one sleek motion, exposing him. With a sly smirk, Dean watched Castiel quickly getting rid of his socks and dress shoes. When Castiel sat up on the table, Dean couldn’t help but think how gorgeous and destroyed he looked, how tempting: His lower half was naked, whereas his upper half was only clad in an opened shirt, which was barely clinging to his shoulders now. Dean spread his bare thighs and slipped between them, looking down into Castiel’s eyes. He tilted his head and kissed him again, slowly, cherishing the sensation of Castiel’s supple lips. Their mouths were sliding together, and there was a fine force in Castiel’s kisses, which made Dean’s knees buckle. Castiel threw his arms around Dean’s neck during their kiss and pulled him closer, his fingernails digging into Dean’s nape possessively. Dean felt the heat of Castiel’s erection as it pressed against his, and it made his head spin.

Castiel broke their kiss and leaned his forehead against Dean’s, breathing heavily. Through half-closed eyes, he regarded Dean, and then his hands were on Dean’s trousers, pulling them down along with his boxers in one go. Dean couldn’t suppress the low moan as Castiel’s nimble fingers engulfed his dick, stroking it with long, skilled movements. His heart was thundering against his ribs, Dean heard the swift thud of his hot blood roaring in his ears. Castiel’s ministrations were so good, so delightful… Dean sensed the heat building up in his abdomen, the tickling sensation everywhere, the excruciatingly sweet waves of dizziness coming and going. With lust-hooded eyes, he contemplated Castiel, who beheld Dean for his part with a piercing, knowing look, understanding perfectly well what he was doing to Dean, and enjoying it visibly. Castiel let go of Dean for a second then and turned around to produce something from his suit jacket. In the murky twilight, Dean recognized the shiny packaging of a condom. Absolutely stunned, he watched Castiel opening the wrapper with his teeth, then retrieving the condom carefully. Then Castiel rolled down the slick condom over Dean’s erection skillfully, with a tight grip of his fist, and Dean nearly lost his footing, it felt so good. He bent forward to kiss Castiel again, following him, lowering his body, as Castiel leaned down on the table again.

It was like a feverish dream to Dean, as he showered Castiel’s neck with feathery kisses, feeling him move underneath him, hearing his sweet sighs so close to his ears. Blindly, Dean hoisted up Castiel’s ass with both hands, then he glided into him with caution. He sensed the tension building in Castiel’s body, a loud long moan fell from his lips. His arms came around Dean’s shoulder, holding on to him, while Dean slid deeper and deeper inside, filling him up completely. Dean held still for a moment, savoring the velvety heat and tightness surrounding him, welcoming him inside.

“Oh god," Castiel whispered, moving his hips experimentally. “Hmmm”, he hummed lowly, uplifting his hips again.

Gently, Dean pulled a little out again, just to glide back into Castiel’s pleasant heat, as far as he could. He heard himself moan as well as they slid together, the world around him spinning madly. He bit into Castiel’s neck with subtle force, picking up his pace as he fucked into Castiel with force now. It elicited one aroused moan after the other from Castiel, who was writhing on the table underneath Dean.

“You feel so good," Dean panted labouredly. Castiel twitched violently when Dean rammed into him then, a high-pitched moan filling the air. Dean let his dick press against the same spot again, bracing himself on one arm, to see the effect it had on Castiel. The sensuality on Castiel’s beautiful face was almost too much for Dean, it took his breath away. The other man simply looked stunning, a sight for sore eyes, how he slowly but surely came undone due to Dean’s actions. It seemed Dean had found his sweet spot, and Dean made sure to massage it constantly. With an unspeakable joy, he watched how Castiel’s chest constricted, how irregular his breathing became, how slack his jawline was as he let go. He regarded Dean through nearly closed eyes, helplessly subjected to his oncoming orgasm.

It escaped Dean’s understanding how someone could feel so good, but he and Castiel fit together perfectly, it felt nothing but symbiotic. Castiel melted like butter in his hands, was so responsive to all of Dean’s caresses. Then Dean felt Castiel’s muscles tighten around him, the contraction squeezing him with unyielding force. He was panting as he sensed the first waves of his own orgasm afflicting him. Incredible heat licked at the bottom of his spine, made his cheeks flush. His eyes locked with Castiel’s, who wasn’t faring better: The muscles of his upper arms were showing, his whole chest became taut, a hunted expression flickered in his eyes. He bit on his bottom lip as he watched Dean, one of his hands started stroking up and down Dean’s torso playfully. A second wave hit Dean. Overwhelmed with the intensity of it, he held on to Castiel’s hips and shoved himself inside again, up to the hilt. His mind was racing, his heart somersaulting. He was chasing his own breaths, trying to calm himself. Then the third wave hit him, and it was all too much. Before he could slow down, his orgasm overtook him. A wonderful warmth rushed through his body, spread in every cell. He closed his eyes and heart himself moan again and again as he came, ejaculating into the condom mindlessly. Castiel followed him almost immediately, cramping around Dean fiercely. It only increased the power of Dean’s orgasm, and he flopped down on Castiel, enjoying the intervals of pure pleasure tickling his body. Castiel was sighing lowly underneath him, holding on to Dean whenever another surge of his climax made him tremble.

…

They bandied stealthy looks when they got cleaned up and dressed again. Dean couldn’t help but smirk, still coming down from his high. Castiel seemed incredibly cute and shy now, even though they had just slept with each other.

“Hey, humor me. Do you look at everyone you hooked up with like this afterward?” he asked, fixing his tie. Castiel averted his eyes, kneeling down to tie his bootlaces. A pensive expression suddenly came to his features. When he regarded Dean again, a mystic smile played around the corners of his mouth. There was a profound look in his eyes, which Dean couldn’t quite classify. It made his skin crawl in the most welcome manner. He studied the fondness in Castiel’s eyes as he beheld Dean, and it touched something deep within him. A place he had shielded for many years, which he had hidden away for so long. Castiel approached Dean and only stopped when he was in Dean’s personal space again. With glee, Dean welcomed Castiel’s lips pressing against his. Before he knew it, he was kissing Castiel again, enjoying the way he was yielding to Dean’s lead.

When they let go of each other, Castiel smiled at Dean. His fingers slid down Dean’s cheeks, then toyed absentmindedly with the hair in Dean’s nape. Castiel seemed so familiar to Dean, as if he had met him before, as if he knew him so well. Dean wondered about this sudden sense of nostalgia as he drowned in the wonderful blue of Castiel’s eyes.

“I usually don’t do this, Dean. It’s been a long time since I did what I did with you tonight," Castiel explained slowly, while apparently still ordering his thoughts. “I saw you in the audience tonight when you looked at your brother getting his certificate… and I was just blown away by your sight. Your happy smile, the love in your eyes… you didn’t even notice that the headlights were shining on you so brightly then. You were like a beacon in the darkness of the surrounding audience, just waiting for me to detect you. And I knew then that I had to have you, Dean. I can’t really give you another explanation.”

Dean chuckled amusedly and leaned in to kiss Castiel fleetingly. He didn’t want to let go of his lips ever again. Again, he kissed him, and then another time, wanting this night to last forever.

“It sounds a little crazy, I must admit. And you would scare some people shitless talking like that, … but I just think it’s super sweet…" Dean purred against Castiel’s lips. For a moment, Castiel froze, listening to Dean’s words attentively. Then he trustfully shifted his weight against Dean and kissed him with all he had, putting countless butterflies into Dean’s stomach and making his head spin. It took a long time that night until they finally let go of each other and returned to the partying audience in the assembly hall.

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Arrival at Bobby's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thanks for the kudos and appreciative reviews so far! :) I'm thrilled to be back and posting a multi-chapter story. There will be circa 16 or 17 chapters overall for this story. This chapter is a little bit shorter (usual chapter length is circa 5500 words). Hope you like it!

### Three years later ###

_Sometimes I don't know where this dirty road is taking me_

_Sometimes I don't know the reason why_

_So I guess I'll keep gambling, lots of booze and lots of rambling_

_Well, it's easier than just waiting around to die_

The highway was an infinite ribbon, cutting through the deserted countryside of green and muddy pastures. In the opposite direction, a car occasionally drove by, and the bright headlights temporarily glared Dean. He drove his 1967 Chevy Impala, feeling the horsepower under her hood through and through. His baby was purring as he spurred her on, his foot on the gas. He had extensively polished the black beauty, which was his car, before his long-planned trip, and the black lacquer was gleaming in the sinking sun’s light. Dean had inherited this car from his dad, and he kept it in good honor – for one thing, to keep the memory of his dad alive, for another thing, because he simply loved old and classic cars. Cars like the Impala weren’t built anymore, nowadays cars just looked bulky and lacked any charisma.

Dean watched the sun sinking ahead of him, nearing the horizon, where the highway was bringing him to. To both his sides, night was setting in. Bluish twilight was all around him, closing in on him, while the sky in front of him was a fascinating spectacle of orange and red. A few fluffy clouds veiled the stars, but there wasn’t any hint of rain in sight. It was a peaceful and mild spring day without rain, a perfect day for an extensive road trip. Spring was almost over, and the days were getting hotter constantly, so Dean had known it was high time to take the trip he had planned for so long. He loved his Impala, but it didn’t have any air conditioner, and Dean really didn’t want to soak in his own juices for hours.

Dean knew it took at least 9 hours, more like 10, to get from St. Louis, Missouri, to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where Bobby lived. So he had loaded his trunk in the morning of this day, well aware he would spend most of his time in the car today. He had brought provisions and tons of his favorite cassette mix tapes – because his baby, of course, didn’t have a CD deck, or this new-fashioned MP3 thing, or whatever this bluehead or bluetoes thing was called – and Dean would be damned if he ever switched from his favorite cassettes to this kind of modern crap. No, thank you very much. He was quite content with his standard collection of rock music. He had packed Metallica’s black album, a best-of from ZZ Top, Electric Ladyland by Jimy Hendrix, and many, many more of his favorite musicians, which would help him overcome all those miles.

Now evening was at hand, and Dean only had one hour or so left to drive. On purpose, he hadn’t taken the route, which would lead him through Kansas City, near to his old home in Lawrence, where he had spent the greatest part of his life. He had wanted to spare himself the trip to memory lane, this could wait for the way home. So he had chosen the route through the south of Iowa, along the US-20 and the Interstate 380, passing through Iowa City and Waterloo. Sioux City just lay behind him, and he could see the afterglow of the city’s electric white lights in the rear-view mirror, a stark contrast to the velvety blue night falling from the sky. He was dog-tired, and he couldn’t wait to get to Bobby’s. The trip had been fun, and he still loved extensively driving his baby, but Dean had to admit that, at the age of 31, he maybe started lacking the energy for things like this. So he put his foot down on the gas and sped a little, to kill all those miles ahead of him quicker.

…

It was past eight when Dean stopped his Impala in front of Bobby’s two-story house, and night was all around him. The front yard’s lawn was as neatly trimmed as ever – Dean could even see that in the darkness, as the streetlamp’s white light illuminated the mown grass. The azure wooden house façade looked inviting and well-kept. Dean smiled a little when he remembered how Bobby liked to keep everything clean and in order, that he said he needed something to do, that it calmed his head. It hadn’t always been like that. Dean remembered visiting Bobby with his dad when he and Sam had been teenagers, a few months after Bobby’s wife Karen had died. Both the house and the garden had looked like a mess, Bobby included. John had taken care of him, knowing perfectly what it was like to lose your wife, and they all had pampered Bobby as best as they could. A few years later, Bobby was the personification of Mr. Clean, except for the baldness and the trim physique, Dean argued with himself. He nodded slowly when he turned off baby’s engine, thinking he was completely overtired and therefore only thinking stupid stuff. He laughed a little to himself when he exited the car and grabbed his duffel bag from the trunk. He really needed either sleep or booze.

When he knocked at Bobby’s door, he was swaying a little on his feet, feeling a rush of adrenaline and tense nervousness when Bobby yanked up the door. The old man looked at him with a fire of zest for life burning in his eyes, a happy grin on his mouth. Dean only quickly registered a plaid shirt, tattered jeans, an old baseball cap, and Bobby’s bushy brown beard, then he was hauled into a bone-breaking hug. Bobby hugged him briefly and tightly, squeezing the air completely out of Dean’s lungs. Damn, that man had some strength, even for his age.

“Good to see you, too," he panted strenuously, and Bobby let go of him, grinning. They examined one another attentively. Bobby looked the same as always, an elderly chap with intelligent blue eyes, which bore a wisdom Dean was envious of, and here and there some wrinkles in a face of someone, who enjoyed a good laugh every once in a while. Fleetingly Dean thought Bobby was more or less of the same age his father would have been now. He quickly shoved these glum thoughts aside, knowing perfectly well where they would lead him to.

“How was the drive?” Bobby asked. He opened his door wider and let Dean inside, taking the duffel bag out of his hands. Dean let himself inside and looked around the tidied-up place. On each room’s floor lay beautiful oaken parquet, and Bobby had a thing for heavy solid wood furniture – so Bobby’s house always smelt wonderfully of wood, reminding Dean of forests; he just loved this scent. In the kitchen, the light was on, and there was a newspaper spread out on the table, along with a soup plate with steaming food in it. Dean must have caught Bobby having a late dinner.

“It was okay, no biggie. Here and there a little traffic jam, but apart from that, free driving," Dean said. Bobby set the bag down in the entry hall while Dean slipped out of his shoes. Dean sat down at the kitchen table, while Bobby walked to the fridge and got Dean a beer. Dean accepted it gratefully, his throat already parched. He gulped down the cool liquid greedily and sighed happily when he put the bottle down again. Bobby beheld him with a gentle smile.

“I just made some stew, if you’re hungry," he said, pointing to his dinner.

“Nah, thanks, I’m good,” Dean nodded, declining politely. Bobby nodded and continued eating, then contemplated Dean for a little moment.

“So, humor me. How are you? What have you been up to? It’s been months since the last time I saw you.”

Dean frowned and played with a loose string on his plaid shirt, which hung from one of his sleeves. He shrugged, not really wanting to dive too deeply into this subject.

“Well, we’ve spoken on the phone every now and then, didn’t we," he circumvented any real answer, yelping and then laughing when Bobby kicked his shin under the table mockingly. Their eyes met and Bobby glared at Dean, half in jest, half threateningly. Dean couldn’t stifle the grin coming to life on his mouth.

“ _We’ve spoken on the phone,”_ Bobby croaked and imitated him (very poorly, by the way). “Very funny, Dean. Talking with you on the phone is like talking to a hotline – you get a lot of talk but very little information. I mean… how are you _feeling_? The last time you’ve been here, your head was all over the place. And I don’t blame you, after what had happened. I know you told me you’ve been back to work, and I was glad you made it. But that’s just one piece of the puzzle…”

Bobby munched his food thoughtfully, his eyes constantly resting on Dean, making him fidgety. Damn Bobby. Dean just couldn’t lie to him when they were face to face. He could lie perfectly when they were on the phone, he could pretend he was fine, that he had everything under control, that he was muddling through life normally, like everybody else. But here, in person, Dean just came undone, and all his carefully erected barriers came tumbling down again. He curled his lips, cradled the cool bottle of beer in his warm hands, trying to find the right words; He tilted his head, incapable of looking at Bobby while revealing the true nature of his heart.

“Well, I don’t feel like ramming my car into the nearest wall all the time, anymore. Like I used to," he said aloud. Then he bit on his lower lip as memories of the last time he had been here returned to him. The anger. The pain. Being overwhelmed with _everything_. Bobby looked at him with widened eyes, shrugging subtly.

“That’s… something? I guess?” he offered, making Dean smile carefully. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm his frayed nerves. He nodded and gulped against the sharp pain suddenly cording up his throat. He hadn’t even noticed tears welling up in his eyes, but then Bobby put a hand over his and gave it a little squeeze, and then Dean realized what a mess he already was again. Quickly Dean wiped with his hand over his face, brushing the betraying wetness away. He then shook all the sadness off and smiled honestly at Bobby.

“You know – I’ve been feeling like shit for months. Even before I came to you back then. I’ve been grieving and bawling my eyes out all the time, and…in the last months, I don’t know, I kind of stopped doing that. First, I just felt empty, as if I couldn’t feel anything anymore, not even the good stuff. But then… I realized I just don’t want to feel miserable all the time. As if I had to put an end to all these bad days and weeks in a row. I wanted to _do something_ with my life again, I want to make something good out of all this crap that has happened to me… Maybe I’m just ready for another chapter of my life, you know?” Dean explained himself, slowly unraveling the thoughts in his head.

Bobby’s piercing eyes rested on Dean, cut right through all the walls he had tried to build up around himself. Briefly, Dean thought how absurd this situation was, just as absurd as he had felt when he had visited Bobby all those months ago. Here Bobby Singer sat in front of him, the guy, who had lost his wife of fifteen years to a vicious brain tumor – and he listened to Dean whine about losing his girlfriend of two years, who had been accidentally murdered, who had died quickly, and not in the span of _whole frigging months_. And Dean saw nothing but understanding and patience in Bobby’s eyes, and he wanted to burst into tears all over again because of Bobby’s unquenchable kindness. He truly admired Bobby for being the way he was.

“After all that you’ve been through, you deserve a fresh start, son.”

“I don’t know, Bobby. I feel like I’m moving on too fast, as if I’m not preserving the memory of Lisa rightly. I don’t want people to think I’ve forgotten about her.”

Bobby shook his head then and sighed extensively, giving Dean a faux-annoyed look.

“That’s balls, Dean, and you know it. Of course, you’re not forgetting about her. But she is dead, son. And you’re not. So, you better enjoy your life and make the best of it. There’s no other option. Except for the car-against-the-wall-thing, but we’ve talked about that enough, haven’t we? Sorry, Dean. Take it from someone who knows best – nobody said it was going to be easy, especially after you’ve lost someone. But you might find happiness again. Just give yourself some time to find your footing again. All right?”

Bobby’s kind words made Dean smile, and the ghosts from the past quickly disappeared again. Suddenly, the world around him seemed less murky, as if a terrible weight had fallen off his mind.

“Thanks, Bobby.”

Bobby got up and fetched them both a new bottle of beer. They clinked their bottles together.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

…

Even though the long drive had exhausted Dean, he was magically wide awake again when he conversed with Bobby. A brilliant glee filled him, brought many laughter and smiles to his lips, as he and Bobby exchanged stories. Outside the night darkened, as the two men sat at the kitchen table, reminiscing about bygone days and the things they had experienced together. Bobby had always been a part of Sam’s and Dean’s lives, like family. But after John’s death, their relationship had strengthened even more. Even though Sam had been at college then, and Dean had soon moved out of Sioux Falls after John’s death, their bond had never broken or become weaker. Dean knew he could always call Bobby and discuss his questions and troubles with him. All his life, he had been like a second father to him, making up for all the times John had failed his sons. Sitting at the table with Bobby now and drinking one beer after the other with him simply felt like coming home to Dean. Damn, he had missed Bobby, and he had missed this place. Sioux Falls had been his place of residence for many years.

“How are you holding up, Bobby? What have you been up to lately?” Dean asked out of pure interest. He was already a little inebriated after so many beers – and judging by the funny glint in Bobby’s eyes, the older man was pretty smashed as well. Bobby shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Well, there’s work. I still fix cars or tow junk cars every day, and when I’m not doing that, I’m doing housework… you know, cooking, cleaning. It’s the stupid game of adulthood, which never stops, and once you’re done with one thing, another thing has to be taken care of. And well, going out with Rufus for a beer every once in a while, bowling with Annie Hawkins every fortnight…”

Dean was wide-eyed, couldn’t stifle the sly grin. He raised a hand to stop Bobby.

“Wait, wait, wait. _Annie Hawkins_? That chick you once had a fling with?”

Bobby rolled his eyes faux-annoyed and emptied his beer bottle with one long swallow.

“That was like a lifetime ago, Dean. She’s just fun to hang out with, you know, I like her sense of humor. And she’s damn good at bowling. Also, she’s together with this guy called Frank now, and they make a lovely couple. She seems happy.”

Dean contemplated Bobby for a moment, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth.

“So, no luck with the ladies, Bobby?” he asked cheekily. He avoided Bobby’s foot underneath the table, trying to kick his shin again. They were both chuckling. Bobby tilted his head and gave Dean a roguish grin.

“Well, there’s the new neighbor at the end of the road, Marcy Ward. She’s cute. She brought me self-made cobbler the other day and wanted to chat.” Dean whistled appreciatively.

“Seems like you still got it in you, tiger," he grinned. But Bobby regarded him with a long, pensive look.

“I don’t know," he sighed. “I wanna be honest with you, Dean. I do get lonely sometimes. And then I get cabin fever and feel like the house is way too big for me. I never bought this house to live in it alone, as you know. But I spent so many happy years here with Karen, I can’t make myself sell it when I think about that. Ever since you boys moved away, it’s pretty dull”, Bobby said quietly. A fond gleam came to his eyes, and he beheld Dean with a friendly smile. Dean’s heart was heavy with worry when he heard how Bobby felt, that he got lonely – he had feared so ever since he had moved away from Sioux Falls. Bobby didn’t have any noteworthy family, and he only trusted a few people in his life to be his friends. Dean clicked his tongue thoughtfully, taking another sip from his beer.

“You know, funny that you mention that now, Bobby… I’ve given it some serious thought about moving back here, to Sioux Falls. Don’t get me wrong, I like Saint Louis, and I like my job there. I’ve got my buddy Benny there, and we get along just fine… but after Lisa…" Dean contemplated aloud. “Too many reminders,” he said at last. Bobby nodded understandingly, a brittle smile rushing over his mouth.

“I know. It must be hard for you. Well, I would be frigging thrilled if you moved your ass back here.”

Dean smiled, a sweet warm wave of nostalgia washing over him. He nodded to himself.

“Yeah, me too.”

…

The next days passed by quickly, as Dean acclimated himself to being back at Bobby’s place again. It was like he had never left. He helped Bobby every day with fixing the cars customers brought to Bobby’s property, the two of them making a good team. The days elapsed in a calm and relaxing manner, just like Dean had imagined and wanted them to. He had taken nearly six weeks off from his job, the maximum he could allow his financial situation. But he had direly needed a break, some time away from St. Louis and all those memories, which were haunting him incessantly. It was good to be here again with Bobby.

Whenever they weren’t working on cars, Dean helped Bobby maintaining the household. He also forced Bobby in a convincing but still friendly way to leave the house more often, so they took a walk around the fields near Bobby’s house in the evening, or they visited the graves of John and Karen in the town’s graveyard. Dean was content with how time went by, nearly happy for the first time in a long while. Bobby’s company did him good. He almost wished he had moved back here already, so that he could see Bobby more often…

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song at the beginning is from the band "The Be Good Tanyas" and it's called "Waiting around to die". I love those chicks!  
> So, now the premisses are all established. Next chapter: Entrance Castiel! 
> 
> Oh, and btw: Dean Winchester would leave a review. Think about that :-P


	3. Kind of an emergency situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh guys I'm having a rough day. I left my mobile phone on the roof of my car today and THEN drove. Guess who's driving now back to the highway and trying to retrieve it? Lol, me...

**Chapter 3 – Kind of an emergency situation**

Dean and Bobby had spent the greatest part of the afternoon in the yard, fixing old and broken cars. Dean loved working on cars, concentrating on repairing them – whenever he was deep in the entanglements of an engine, or when he screwed with something on the car’s body, his mind was completely at ease. He could work for hours without overthinking any parts of his life, or his fate or his future. And it was a good feeling to repair something broken, to see it functioning and glammed up again. However, stinking of motor oil and grease after working with cars wasn’t enjoyable at all, so Dean had hit the shower as soon as he could. Bobby was just preparing dinner for them, a nice potato stew, while Dean finished toweling and dressing.

He heard the phone ring as he rubbed his hair with the towel, wondering who was calling Bobby in the evening. From across the floor, he heard scraps of the conversation, soon realizing something wasn’t right. This wasn’t a normal call. He got dressed, half-heartedly listening to Bobby, not wanting to be nosey around the old guy.

“Jo, it’s not a good timing. You know I’ve Dean over for a few weeks… Yeah, Dean’s back…”

Dean smirked when he remembered Jo and her feisty nature, wondering how long it had been since he had seen her. However, his mind couldn’t stop worrying about what was going on, why Jo was calling in the first place.

“I told you, I already have someone here… Why can’t he stay with you and your mom?... I understand. Ok, tell him not to worry. I have a room for him, just… just let me clean it up a little, give me an hour… You don’t have to thank me, Jo. I know that kid for so long now, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for him… Tell him I expect him in an hour.”

His curiosity got the better of Dean, and when he walked barefooted towards the kitchen, he looked at Bobby with expectant eyes, not hiding he had heard some parts of his phone call. Bobby regarded him with a grim mien, stirring the stew on the stove blindly.

“That was Jo. Someone’s coming over. It’s kind of an emergency situation. His name is Castiel, and he will stay with us for a little while," Bobby said ominously, not giving away any details. Dean let the name melt in his mouth, thinking it sounded familiar. Bobby read his musing mien instantly right.

“You may have heard of him before – he was at the same law school as Sam and Jess, though he graduated three years before them," Bobby explained pensively. He filled their bowls with the stew; Dean got the cutlery, and together they walked over to the kitchen table, sitting down. Something was starting to catch up with Dean, he felt something coming towards his brain.

“Buon appetito," Bobby grumbled, sticking his spoon into the stew grumpily.

“Thanks," Dean muttered and started eating thoughtfully. Suddenly it hit him. Sam’s graduation ball. The night he received his law school certificate. The guy with the deep blue eyes, the dark hair, pale skin… those kissable pink lips. How Dean had lain on top of him, Castiel’s thighs around his waist, their hot breaths colliding, their mouths touching. Fingernails on his bare back, holding onto him as he thrust again and again into the other man. A hot shudder ran down Dean’s spine. Castiel! The guy Dean had slept with on the night of Sam’s graduation…! Three years had passed since then. Why did he, of all the people Bobby knew, come to his house now? Dean didn’t know how to feel. He was confused.

Bobby must have mistaken Dean’s silence for something else because he filled Dean in on the things he didn’t know. Dean studied how sorrowful Bobby looked, how fraught with age and weariness when he sighed and spoke of Castiel while they ate.

“I knew Castiel’s mother. Karen and her were close friends. She died when Castiel was about 15 or so, lung cancer. Made the poor boy an orphan, and no one adopted him, because he was already a teenager then. We often talked and he was always polite and visited me, but we both knew I couldn’t do more for him. I wished many times I could have done more for him. But he clenched his teeth and somehow got along, even though it must have been really hard for him. He was an exceptional student, and he got into law school with a scholarship… He is the youngest judge in the state, it was all over the news. Every now and then, he comes by and visits me…”

Dean listened attentively, munching his dinner.

“Well, that doesn’t make a lick of sense. He sounds like he has everything under control now, like he has a good life. What kind of emergency makes him come here? Did his house burn down or something?” Dean wondered aloud, not really expecting Bobby to give him an answer. He didn’t mean to be nosey. Bobby shook his head, a long sigh escaping his mouth.

“No, it’s not that. I really can’t tell you. It’s not my place. Please just be kind to him and don’t ask any stupid questions. He’s been through enough.”

That was even more dubious than anything Dean could imagine, but he just shrugged his shoulders and continued eating. When they had finished their dinner, Dean helped Bobby arrange the spare room he had been talking about. They moved furniture and swept the room. Bobby cleaned the windows while Dean put clean sheets on the bed. In the end, it was nothing but a room with a single bed, a wardrobe and a nightstand with a little lamp on it, but the curtains were white, and the bedding was fresh, and the room was clean and smelt of soap. It looked homely, inviting. Dean patted Bobby’s shoulder appreciatively, remembering how the room had looked before they had gotten to work, and the older guy just smiled a little at Dean, which was always a rare occasion.

All at once, the doorbell shrilly rang and startled them. Bobby descended the stairs, and Dean followed a few steps. In the middle of the stairs, he stopped, suddenly uncertain if he should join Bobby or give him and Castiel some privacy and space. Bobby opened the door, and even though Dean couldn’t see Castiel, he saw the appalled expression on Bobby’s face, how he sucked in a shocked breath.

“What the hell happened to you?” Bobby exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Bobby. I couldn’t stay anywhere else and…” a dark throaty voice resounded. Bobby reached out his right arm and pulled Castiel inside, engulfing him in a tight hug and interrupting him in doing so. Dean surveyed the man in Bobby’s embrace – he still had messy black hair, and he was still muscled and lean and tall. He was wearing a beige trench coat and a black suit, from what Dean could see, and a duffel bag hung over his shoulder while he hugged Bobby back clumsily. Then Dean saw it too. Half of his face was bruised and battered. His left eye was swollen and surrounded by blue and violet abrasions; his bottom lip was split open.

Bobby let go of him and gripped both of Castiel’s shoulders, looking at him sternly.

“Don’t worry, son. You can stay here for as long as you need it. Dean and I prepared a room for you.”

At that moment, Castiel became aware of Dean standing close to them on the stairs, and he yanked his head up, examining Dean with an open, questioning look in his eyes. Dean didn’t know how to react, so he just nodded at Castiel wordlessly, still studying how beaten up his one half of the face looked. Heat bubbled in the depth of his stomach when Castiel’s eyes rested on his for a second, and he briefly asked himself if Castiel even remembered him after all this time. If he remembered their night together…

Castiel tried to smile, but then he looked away again and considered Bobby.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Bobby. I… I can’t go home… Aaron is…” Castiel started, but Bobby immediately cut him off and raised one hand to halt Castiel.

“Let’s just get you settled, boy. Come, I show you the room, and you can unpack. We can always talk later. It’s getting late, and I guess you’re also tired…” he said friendly, whereupon Castiel just nodded. It seemed to Dean he was close to tears, absolutely traumatized and about to lose his composure. His knuckles were white when he held his duffel bag tighter as if he was holding onto it to find some support. Bobby patted his shoulder once, then he ascended the stairs, giving Dean a gloomy warning look as if he wanted to remind him not to ask stupid questions. Dean let them both pass him by on the stairs, confused about what was going on. He then walked to his own room, sitting down on the bed, not knowing what to do with himself.

From the other room down the hall, he could hear their quiet conversation. Dean couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“Did Aaron do this to you?” Bobby asked quietly, anger resounding in his gruff voice. Who was Aaron, Dean wondered with a frown. He didn’t hear Castiel’s reply, but Bobby’s response was enough for him to figure out what was going on.

“Damn it, boy. Why did you let him? I know you can defend yourself. Haven’t you practiced combat sport all your life?”

Dean had to strain his ears to catch Castiel’s answer because it nearly was a whisper, it was so faint.

“I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to be like him.”

“Even though he hurt you? Look at you, you look as if a truck ran over you!”

Then there was silence. A disgusting revelation came to Dean’s mind as he slowly unraveled the maze of happenings, which had brought Castiel here. He felt sorry for him, furious, overwhelmed with shock and compassion. He didn’t know what he was doing, it felt like in a dream, as he got up and walked down the corridor to the room. It was as if something was calling him here, as if he was needed. He gently opened the ajar door, seeing Castiel sitting on the bed. He held his head in his hands, his face buried in his palms, and his shoulders were quaking while he cried silently. Bobby knelt down in front of him, sadness veiling his features as he beheld Castiel. He turned his head to Dean, aware of his presence, and gave him a look heavy with meaning.

“Can you please fetch me the first aid kit?” he asked softly, whereupon Dean nodded and turned around on his heels.

He went downstairs to the main bathroom, deeply lost in thought. He understood fistfights in a bar after a night out, he understood guys hitting each other to defend women from getting harassed… but this? Beating up your partner? This was something entirely else. Dead had witnessed some cases of domestic violence on the job, but he had never seen a face as battered as Castiel’s. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the guy. When he returned to the room, he handed the kit to Bobby silently. He lingered for a moment, not sure whether he was supposed to go now. Castiel just continued hiding his face in his hands, while Bobby fiddled about with antiseptics and ointments. Then the older man raised his eyes to Dean’s, and he was glaring at Dean, pointedly indicating that Dean was indeed supposed to go now and let them be. Dean nodded subtly and turned on his heels, retreating to his own room. He decided it was time to go to bed anyway – but when he lay in bed, tucked in under his blanket, staring into the semi-darkness of the room, he realized he absolutely couldn’t sleep. He kept listening to the quiet conversation down the hall, the constant murmur of Bobby and Castiel. His heart throbbed painfully when he thought he heard Castiel sob in a suffocating way. Dean finally felt fatigue creeping up on him, and his eyes started weighing tons. He tried to continue listening, but soon, he lost the battle and went out like a light.

…

Dean was up before everyone else the next morning, having ants in his pants. He attempted to keep all thoughts of him and Castiel at bay, suppressing memories of the hot night they had shared three years ago. Instead, he decided now was the moment to be an adult and make himself useful. Therefore, he made breakfast, set the table and brewed a big pot of strong coffee. Bobby soon joined him, wearing a blue bathrobe and the usual grumpy face as he murmured “Morning”. They sat down at the kitchen table and Dean poured Bobby some coffee. For a while, they ate in brooding silence, sipping their hot coffee from time to time. Dean didn’t know where to start. There were a thousand things on his mind, a million questions he wanted to ask Bobby. But Bobby was anything but a morning person, so Dean knew he had to be patient with him. He soon threw this resolution to the wind, however.

“Bobby, listen, I’ve been thinking,” he started carefully. Bobby looked at him piercingly.

“Oh, that’s never a good sign,” Bobby commented dryly, though he smiled a little. Dean wasn’t so easily deterred.

“Don’t you think it’s better if I packed my things and drove home? I mean, you have enough on your plate already with Castiel. I think he needs you now, and I don’t wanna stand in the way or even mess things up.” Dean scratched his head in a state of utter agitation. Finally, the life seemed to return to Bobby, because he sat up straight and made big eyes at Dean, perking his eyebrows up.

“Don’t you _dare_ , Dean Winchester. You won’t leave me alone with all this crap! First of all, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again, son, you know that damn well. So, you can stay for the time we’ve planned for you to stay. Second of all, you and Castiel are kind of at the same age; well, you’re a year older, but you get my drift. I think it’s easier for you to connect with him age-wise… and also from a professional perspective, considering your line of work, maybe you can talk some sense into him. I think you put together by now that his stupid ass of a boyfriend decorated his face like that. He wouldn’t listen to me when I encouraged him last night to dump him…”

Dean sighed, kneading his temples. He was getting a headache. People in toxic relationships, always a nice drama to be surrounded with. He laughed a little when he thought about what Bobby had said. Unbelievable.

“I don’t get it. I mean… why would you ever let your partner do that to you? Or why wouldn’t you leave them?” he contemplated aloud.

When he looked at Bobby again, he realized Bobby was frozen on the spot, looking as if someone had caught him red-handed. Dean followed Bobby’s eyes, to where he was looking, and turned around on his chair to find Castiel standing in the doorway. Damn it. He must have heard some snippets of their conversation. Dean regarded him with an agape mouth, feeling nothing but stupidly embarrassed. Castiel was wearing black suit pants, a white button-down shirt and a baby blue tie, which was really bringing out his eyes. Well, one of his eyes. The other was still pretty swollen. Overall, Castiel appeared sickly pale. His cheek looked a little better today, but there were ugly bruises and swellings everywhere – in all the colors of the rainbow. When their eyes met, Castiel started smiling tiredly at Dean. He was surprised to find no rage in Castiel’s features, how indifferent he seemed to Dean and Bobby talking about him. Indeed, he just walked up to them to the kitchen table, as if nothing had happened.

“Obviously, and luckily for you, you’ve never been in a situation like this before, Dean,” Castiel said with a wink. He sat down on the chair between Dean and Bobby and took a bun from the breadbasket. Calmly he sliced it open with a bread knife, his head tilted in concentration.

“Don’t you think I thought the same? How Aaron could do that to me, how I could let it happen? It’s not the first time, by the way. I often thought about leaving him, but I found I didn’t have the strength… so what makes you think I have the strength for it now?”

At last, Castiel raised his eyes to Dean, and the expression of these gorgeous blue eyes was fierce, challenging. The longer Dean beheld him attentively, the more he realized it was a façade Castiel displayed, that there was nothing but helplessness and desperation at the core of his thoughts. His misery touched Dean and made him sympathize with the younger man. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out his hand and put it on Castiel’s shoulder and squeezed it, holding his look pointedly.

“Because now you have Bobby and me. You did the right thing coming here. We will help you get through this. And if this Aaron ever lays a finger on you again, just say a word and I’ll beat him to a pulp”, Dean heard himself say with conviction. It put a bright light in Castiel’s eyes and he suddenly grinned amused.

“Well, that’s awfully kind. An offer of violence against violence. I appreciate that, Dean… but I know I can kick Aaron’s ass myself without any difficulty. I’ve been doing combat sport since my teenage years, and I know how to defend myself,” Castiel replied, helping himself to breakfast. Dean admired the soft smile playing on Castiel’s mouth, feeling unreasonably proud that he had put it there.

“Yeah, but you didn’t kick his ass, you let him do this to you. All combat sport experience aside,” Bobby voiced what Dean was secretly thinking. At that, Castiel paused for a moment, closing his eyes as if he was battling against a huge wave of pain washing over him. He sighed.

“The problem isn’t physical. It’s the emotional abuse that kept me at Aaron’s side. I know he’s toxic, but I just can’t seem to get away from him. He always finds me, and he always finds a way to make me come back to him.”

Dean felt as if in a surreal dream, as if none of this could actually be happening, when he carefully touched Castiel’s hand with his, searching for his eyes. His heart broke a little when he detected how haggard Castiel looked, how defeated, that there were tears welling in his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what Castiel was going through, how embarrassed he was probably feeling right now. It must have been hard to talk about everything like that. Dean tried to smile encouragingly.

“Castiel, answer me honestly, please. Do you want to be together with Aaron?” he asked, his voice calm and soothing. Castiel shook his head then, nervously wiping away the tear, which was escaping his eye. Dean noticed how Castiel’s fingers were trembling.

“No,” Castiel just rasped, fighting against another nervous breakdown. Dean pressed his hand affirmatively, grasping his fingers in a tight grip. Castiel looked at him from under his lashes, scared and confused like a deer caught in headlights.

“Then let us help you. Stay with us. You don’t ever need to go back to him, okay? You’re safe with us.”

Castiel nodded again, but this time, he couldn’t hinder all the tears streaming abundantly down his cheeks. He tilted his head, ashamed, and he couldn’t say anything anymore. Dean saw his shoulders were shaking, and that Castiel was crying silently now. It was then that Bobby got up and drew Castiel into a tight hug. Dean watched how Castiel turned to hide his face in Bobby’s chest, allowing him to hold him and comfort him while Castiel cried all his heart out.

“It’s okay, boy, it’s okay,” Bobby cooed repeatedly, stroking Castiel’s shoulder compassionately. Dean watched them and felt like crying, too. He couldn’t stand seeing Castiel being so miserable. Dean was going to stay here, and he was going to make sure that Castiel would be alright, he decided at this moment. Come what may come.

…

They continued their breakfast soon, and even though it was a little awkward and taciturn, Castiel seemed more composed now, as if he wouldn’t break down again. When he was done with breakfast, he announced he was leaving for work soon. In utter disbelief, Dean as well as Bobby stared at him wide-eyed.

“You’re not serious,” Dean asked incredulously.

“Amen. I think you’ve lost your marbles. I mean, have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?” Bobby noted.

Castiel beheld them with a sullen look, wearing a frown. Despite his neat clothes and his perfectly combed hair, Castiel looked the worse for wear. Half of his face was still a bloody mess, lacerations and bruises everywhere, ranging from deep red to violet and blue. His left eye was badly swollen, and a blood blister was forming under his eye socket. Castiel fixed his tie in a jittery gesture, avoiding Dean’s and Bobby’s scrutinizing glances. He sighed extensively.

“What am I supposed to do then? It’s not like I can sit here all day and… I don’t know, _do nothing_ ,” he complained.

Bobby smiled at him sympathetically then and patted his cheek in an amicable manner.

“Listen, boy, maybe it’s time for you to relax and calm down somewhat. After what you’ve been through… well, I would get drunk and sleep all day, and if you wanna do that, I certainly won’t blame you. Maybe it will do you some good to just take your time and have some time for yourself. If you show up at work today, the way you look, it will only cause problems. And that’s the last thing you need right now,” Bobby said. Dean watched the hesitant smile coming to life on Castiel’s lips. He nodded solemnly and undid his tie with a long sigh.

“Alright. Then I go upstairs and, I don’t know, go back to bed or whatever,” he laughed helplessly. When Castiel turned around to leave, however, Dean thought he could see tears welling in Castiel’s eyes – tears of despair and hopelessness. He bit on his bottom lip pensively, wondering if Castiel would be alright.

For the next few hours, it was wonderfully quiet in the house. Dean helped Bobby tidy up and mop the floors, while the radio played old rock songs at a low volume. When he was on his hands and knees, rubbing the dirt stains off the parquet flooring, Dean suddenly heard the loud snoring noise from upstairs. He and Bobby both halted in their movements and looked at each other. Then they started grinning in unison.

“Well, seems like that poor son of a bitch is really knackered,” Dean said with a shrug and continued cleaning.

“Yeah, and he sounds like a bear in hibernation”, Bobby quipped. “Let him have a little rest… from what he told me last night, this past year must have been hell for him. I just hope this Aaron guy leaves him alone from now on.”

Dean hoped so too, and wondered what he could do to cheer Castiel up a little. The guy needed distraction…

Around noon, a sleepy Castiel descended the stairs, his hair completely ruffled and his shirt wrinkled. Dean smiled at the given sight, thinking Castiel looked stupidly adorable. Castiel helped himself to a glass of water and chugged it in one go, instantly re-filling his glass. Dean was standing at the stove, preparing lunch for all of them. A wonderful, mouth-watering scent filled up the kitchen, wafted through the air. Bobby was outside, talking to an elderly man about his car problems and whether Bobby would be able to fix them; Dean watched him from the kitchen window, knowing he would have to call Bobby inside soon. He had told him lunch would be on the table in five minutes, but Bobby always forgot the time when he was chatting with someone.

“Sit down, Cas,” Dean said, “lunch will be ready in five.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Castiel was indeed sitting down at the table, all silent and brooding.

“No one ever called me like that,” Castiel said thoughtfully, making Dean frown. Oh, oh yeah, he hadn’t even realized he had given Castiel a nickname. _Cas._ Well, it sounded more natural to Dean, had spontaneously escaped his mouth. He shrugged his shoulders, flipping the food in the pan with the spatula masterfully. He got plates and cutlery, busily bustling to and fro.

“Well, I can’t get used to this weird name you’ve got. I mean, who names their kid _Castiel_? Is this something biblical?” Dean complained. He took a second to regard Castiel, seeing the fond smile coming to life on his mouth. He beheld Dean with humour dancing in his look, and it churned up something hot and wild within Dean. Damn it. Cas was terribly cute when he smiled like that.

“Actually, Dean, the name doesn’t appear in the bible, but it derives from medieval Jewish, Christian and Islamic mysticism. Castiel is the name of an angel, and it means “shield of God” in Hebrew. He is the patron of everyone born on a Thursday.”

“Hm, too bad I was born on a Wednesday, you little angel, you,” Dean joked with a grin, seeing how it made Castiel grin, too, and roll his eyes at him. “That sounds impressive, buddy. Big words.”

“What can I say? I know the name is weird, but my mother gave it to me, so I can’t really complain. She was deeply religious, and I believe in God, too, so… I don’t know. It somehow works for me. Though I like _Cas_ as well.”

Dean filled up the plates with the food he had prepared. He opened the kitchen window and called for Bobby. Knowing Bobby a little too well, Dean didn’t fill up Bobby’s plate, but put the lid on the pan to keep his food warm. With a smirk, he arranged Castiel’s food and decorated it, feeling a little silly. When he brought both plates to the table and sat down next to Castiel, he grinned at the baffled and amused expression, which appeared on Castiel’s handsome features.

“What the hell is that?” he said, pointing at his lunch. The pancakes Dean had made were combined, so that they were forming a figure.

“Don’t be stupid. _Snowman pancakes,_ of course. The raisins are his eyes, and look, the strips of bacon are his scarf. Clever, huh?” Dean replied, wiggling his eyebrows clownishly. It made Castiel laugh, and Dean felt on top of the world. To see Castiel’s mood lighten up like this, despite half of his face brutally battered… Castiel picked up the knife and fork, shaking his head amused, and cut up the snowman.

“Thanks, Dean. That’s really sweet of you.”

For a moment, they ate in amicable silence. Dean contemplated Castiel secretly, downright happy about the lasting smile on his pink lips, which he had brought there.

“You know, it reminds me of my mother. She used to decorate my meals in a similar way when I was a kid and feeling down”, Castiel said between two bites. They regarded each other for a moment with open, friendly looks. Dean sensed the change in the atmosphere, how peaceful and brittle it was, how they were slowly but surely warming up to one another. He bit down on his bottom lip absentmindedly, asking himself whether he should say the things resting on the tip of his tongue or not. He sighed against the tension growing in his chest.

“Cas… I know it ain’t my business. But if you ever wanna talk to someone, I’m here for you. I don’t wanna boast, but I’m a pretty good listener, and it’s my job to talk to people all the time. And I know I’m something like a stranger to you, but sometimes, it’s easier to unload all your crap in front of someone, who doesn’t know you very well. Especially when it comes to things that are so dark and terrible that you can’t tell anyone close to you about it.”

A haunted look veiled Castiel face for a fleeting second. He contemplated Dean, brooding, uncertainty in his eyes. He seemed of two minds with himself, obviously half of him wanting to agree to Dean’s proposal, while the other part of him was too wary to open up. Then Castiel smiled sadly, looking bashfully to the ground.

“What will any conversation avail to? For the time being, my life just sucks… and I don’t see how it can get better anytime soon when I talk about how horrible I feel.”

Dean’s eyes traveled over Castiel’s badly beaten up face, taking in all the damage Aaron’s fists had caused. Yeah, Castiel might have a point there.

“Trust me, I know. When life is crappy, it will usually continue to be crappy for a long, long time. But then it does get better some day, and before you notice, you’re on your feet again,” Dean insisted.

Castiel bit on his bottom lip, an agonized expression in his eyes when he raised them to Dean with caution.

“How can you be so sure, Dean?”

Dean smiled wistfully, sensing the pain of old memories coming back to him in small waves. Losing his mother in that awful house fire when he had been just a little boy. Then the death of his father five years ago. And most recently… Lisa.

“Because I’ve had my share of bad times in my life. A whole lot of crap happened, and often, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to make it or if I was going to buckle under all the pressure. But I did get through it every time. Still standing, you know? And so will you, buddy. I’m pretty sure you’re going to be alright. Just… let people help you. You’re not alone in this, even if you might feel this way. There’s always someone to talk to, someone who will listen to you.”

“Thank you, Dean. I might come back to your offer one of these days. But currently, I… I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m just trying not to lose my head and just keep going somehow.” Castiel sighed. Dean dared reaching out a hand and placed it on Castiel’s shoulder, squeezing it once, searching for Castiel’s eyes.

“It’s okay, buddy. One step at a time. How about you eat your lunch first and postpone thinking about all the big problems and questions to a later point?”

Castiel nodded then, giving Dean a wink as he took another bite of his pancakes, making Dean smile.

“You know, you’re really not bad at talking to people,” Cas said with a happy grin.

“Told you so,” Dean said, grinning comically.

Finally, Bobby joined them; he filled up his plate and sat down at the table, giving Dean a doubtful look when he examined the pancake snowman that would be his lunch.

“I’m telling you,” he said with a groan and a sour mien, “that damn Hank Johnson will never learn. I told him so many times to _not_ go and get a Renault. Damn those French cars. Yeah, they might be looking fancy, but it won’t take long for them to fall apart. Now I gotta fix the handbrakes, and only last year the servo steering had caused difficulties. But Hank won’t ever learn”, Bobby grumbled.

“Oh, that sucks,” Castiel agreed. “Remember when I got that Toyota? And how often did you have to fix that?”

Bobby gave Castiel a good-humored smile. “Yeah, I remember. All those recall programs over the last years Toyota made. Unbelievable. Next time you get a car, you’ll listen to my advice first, yeah?” He beheld Cas with a piercing look, whereupon Cas nodded meekly, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, that’s one problem I won’t have for the coming decade or so. My baby is still as good as new, absolutely reliable,” Dean declared proudly, leaning back in his chair after having finished his lunch. He noticed Castiel’s eyes on him, regarding him with sudden interest.

“Yeah, I saw it in the drive way. I wanted to ask you about that shiny black thing, anyway. What’s it all about? I’ve never seen a car like this before,” he murmured thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving Dean. Bobby rolled his eyes dramatically and facepalmed with a groan.

,

“Oh, no, Cas, you didn’t. As soon as Dean starts about the Impala, you’ll never know if he ever stops.”

Dean grinned, realizing his moment to shine had come.

“Shut up, Bobby. Well, Castiel, glad you asked… I’m happy to teach you everything about cars, but especially about my 1967 Chevy Impala, which my dad inherited to me. He bought it back in 1973, and…” he started his monologue, seeing the confusion about Dean’s enthusiasm in Castiel’s eyes. Bobby raised a warning forefinger at Castiel, giving him a sinister look.

“Get out while you still can, boy. You’re in danger.”

“Hey, it’s a beautiful car,” Dean said, laughing when Bobby let his head meet the kitchen table on purpose.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think about this chapter?
> 
> Lemme know! 
> 
> Or am I talking to the void? :-P


	4. Nightly talks and getting acquainted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bon soir lovely readers! How are you doing? Hope you are all well despite frigging Covid-19 (it's getting annoying omg so annoying).

It was Wednesday night, the third night since Castiel’s arrival at Bobby’s house. Dean sat in the lonely kitchen at the table, cradling the tumbler of whiskey in his hands. Bobby had long gone to bed, but Dean had remained where he was, reminiscing about the turns of his life and how good it felt to be here again. It was already deep in the night, way after midnight.

Dean took another sip of the golden-brown liquid, feeling it burn pleasantly in his throat. He was tired and a little tipsy, and he wasn’t twenty anymore, so after he finished his drink, he finally decided to hit the pillow. With a groan he got up, his body weary and his mind knackered, then he shuffled to the stairs and climbed them slowly. Carefully he treaded the wooden steps, eager to avoid any creaking sounds. When he was nearly upstairs, he stopped for a second, thinking he had heard something. There. There it was again. The sound came from Castiel’s room – the door was nearly shut, but through the little slit, Dean could clearly hear Castiel. The younger man was crying. There were some suppressed sobs, his ragged accelerated breathing, his sniffling every now and then… It sounded heart-wrenching.

Dean felt a gaping hole opening in his guts, a big hole of unease, while he listened to Castiel, obviously in pain. He was certain Castiel hadn’t heard him coming, wasn’t aware that Dean was upstairs. He could have easily sneaked by his room and get into his own bed, not having to bother with whatever it was that upset Castiel. But on the other hand, … He couldn’t just let him suffer all alone, could he? Dean bit on his bottom lip, his innards crumbling with sympathy as he heard Castiel sniffle again. Damn it. He didn’t know why, but he hated hearing Castiel like that, couldn’t stand it when he cried. The least thing he could do was talk to him and offer him a little comfort. He sighed quietly, then he walked to Castiel’s door and opened it slowly.

The room was dark, but the electric white light from the street illuminated it. Castiel lay on his side, his dark tufts of hair a stark contrast to the white pillow, and the sparse light made his eyes glow eerily beautiful. He studied Dean, suddenly all quiet and composed, as Dean stood in the door and contemplated Castiel for his part.

“Cas… Do you wanna be alone, or do you wanna talk about it? I heard you cry, and I thought I should check in on you. I know it ain’t my place, but if you wanna talk, just now that I’m here," Dean said friendly, his words were quiet due to the late hour. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he recognized the smallest of smiles coming to life on Castiel’s lips as he beheld Dean in the dark. Then the younger man sat up in bed, his back leaned against the big pillow.

“Come inside," he just said, and perplexed, Dean shut the door and walked up to the bed. He stopped at the end of the bed, watching Castiel wiping the tears from his cheeks abashedly, quickly. Dean sat down cautiously, his eyes never letting Castiel out of their sight. For a moment, it was awfully quiet in the room, as Castiel regarded his hands in his lap, and as Dean sat there, just breathing and looking at Castiel, worrying about him.

“Thank you for being here, Dean. You’re awfully kind," Castiel said thoughtfully at last. Dean raised his eyes to him, surprised about the sudden compliment.

“Kind like Aaron?” he asked, mischief ringing in his voice. It had been meant as a joke, something to lighten the tense atmosphere – yet all he got was a lopsided smile from Castiel and a knowing glance in his luminous blue eyes.

“Very much _unlike_ Aaron.”

Dean nodded, smiling carefully at Castiel. Castiel sighed and wiped over his eyes again, seeming hopeless and lost. When he looked at Dean again, Dean saw new tears welling in his eyes, and it hurt Dean so badly, he instinctively reached out and grabbed Castiel’s hand, squeezing it affectionately.

“You don’t have to say anything, Cas,” Dean rasped breathlessly, “I know what it’s like… to lose someone.”

A frown came to Castiel’s forehead.

“I didn’t _lose_ Aaron. He isn’t dead or whatever…” he objected. Dean scoffed humourlessly.

“That’s not what I meant. Yeah, it’s not the same as losing someone you love, who died. But you lost the person you thought you knew, the person you had fallen in love with. That person is gone. Aaron isn’t who you thought he would be. And, believe me, I’ve been there. I’ve been let down by so many people… People I thought I knew inside out. And sometimes… you just realize they are not what you thought they were… And then it’s better to move on.”

Castiel closed his eyes then, and tears were streaming down his face abundantly as he cried mutely, nodding while Dean talked. His strong fingers pressed Dean’s as if he was agreeing to what Dean had said, and to Dean, it seemed as if he was holding on to him desperately. For a while, they sat there in silence, just holding hands, while Castiel tried to calm down again.

“I don’t know how to move on… I don’t know if I can ever forget what he did to me. Or if I can ever be happy again,” Castiel confessed, and another hot wave of compassion washed over Dean. He longed to take Castiel into his arms and embrace him, but he was certain Castiel wouldn’t allow his physical closeness. Dean felt the urge to shield him from more pain and turmoil, but he didn’t even know why. He didn’t understand himself anymore when it came to Castiel. All he knew was that he hated the agony in his beautiful blue eyes, that he felt so much pity for him that he himself also felt bad.

“Give yourself some time, Cas. You’ve been through a lot,” Dean said. By intuition, he raised his hand, wanting to stroke through the hair over Castiel’s ear – but then Castiel yanked his head up, his eyes widened in shock, and the younger man winced as if Dean had wanted to hit him – and Dean stopped his hand midair, realizing what he had done.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he started, interrupted by Castiel saying “Sorry” several times as well. Suddenly, there was a wide grin on Castiel’s mouth, and he and Dean started chuckling about the awkward moment. When they calmed down again, Dean just enjoyed the vivid gleam in Castiel’s eyes, seeming now less troubled, and he drank in the sweet little smile on Castiel’s lush lips, proud he had put it there.

“You will be alright, Cas. It just takes some time.”

Castiel nodded pensively, then he let go of Dean’s hand and lay down in bed again.

“Thank you, Dean," he said in earnest. “You’re a good guy.” Dean couldn’t help it as he blushed fiercely at that, he had never been good with receiving compliments. Nevertheless, he dared looking up into Castiel’s eyes again, holding his gaze firmly as he said the next words.

“You’re a good guy, too, Cas. And you deserve to be happy. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Castiel looked away, appearing terribly shy to Dean all of the sudden, and he scratched the back of his head as he avoided Dean’s eyes.

“You just made me stop crying, don’t make me start again,” he quipped, making Dean laugh a little. He finally got up and walked to the door, turning around one last time to soak in the given view – Castiel lying in his bed, a peaceful notion dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile on his mouth. Yeah, he was good now. Dean was glad he had cheered him up somewhat.

“Night, Cas. Sleep a little,” he said softly, receiving a fond “Night, Dean” in return.

He closed the door behind him carefully.

…

The following Thursday morning, Bobby and Dean had breakfast together. After a little while, Castiel joined them and came downstairs in his pajamans, with bed hair and a sullen mood, obviously not a morning person. The radio kept playing quietly in the background while they ate. Dean watched Castiel for his part, smirking to himself about Castiel’s grumpy behavior and finding it nothing but endearing. The other man was taciturn and only started speaking once he had inhaled two cups of steaming black coffee. Dean studied the bruises on Castiel’s face intently – they started to mend, and the swelling had almost disappeared. The black and blue marks had gradually vanished or turned into yellow and pale red. Dean could guess the usual outlines of his features. For a second, it took his breath away, as he studied the other man. He had forgotten how handsome Castiel was. The bruises had hidden his clean-cut features well, and now that they were disappearing, Dean couldn’t help but stare. However, he looked away quickly when Castiel noticed him watching, and felt the heat rise up in his cheeks, tinging them scarlet. Dean didn’t know what to do about those piercing blue eyes and their sharp regard; he always felt naked when Castiel stared at him as if he could read easily in the book that was Dean, as if Dean couldn’t hide any thought from him…

“Damn it,” Bobby complained suddenly, shaking his empty pillbox unhappily. “I have to go into town and run some errands. My reading glassed need adjustments, and I need a refill for my meds. Tell you, boys, being old is balls”, he grouched.

“Why don’t you let me cook lunch then? You’ve got so much on your plate already. And I would love to do something for you for once, too,” Castiel offered – for the first time this morning, a little smile grew on his lips. Dean studied it enthralled, loving how dolce and fair it made Castiel look. Castiel’s proposal brought a gentle smile to Bobby’s mouth and a soft expression to his wrinkled eyes. He had thanked Castiel and accepted his offer, then he had left the two men behind and shortly thereafter, they had heard the front door close.

The next few hours had passed quietly in the house. Dean heard Castiel taking a shower, while he himself started reading one of the books he had brought to Bobby’s. When he passed by Castiel’s room a little while later, he saw the door to his room was ajar; Castiel lay on the bed, on his stomach, and was completely carried away with a novel he was reading. Dean fetched himself a cup of coffee and started tidying up the kitchen and the living room, humming to himself thoughtlessly.

Castiel finally came down and bestowed Dean with a friendly smile as he made his way to the kitchen. He rummaged around in the cupboards, obviously searching for the right equipment to cook. Dean watched him estimating Bobby’s foodstuff, possibly wondering what to make out of it, then he laughed a little when he heard Castiel’s frustrated groan.

“Dean?” he asked and turned around to the other man, a smile and an exasperated look in his eyes.

“Yeah?” Dean stepped closer towards the kitchen counter, where Castiel stood.

“Do you wanna help me? I guess you know your way around Bobby’s kitchen better than me.”

“Sure,” Dean said with a shrug. “What do you need?”

“Well,” Castiel ran a hand through his dark hair, “a chopping board would be a start. And a veggie knife. Two of everything if you wanna help me chop all the veggies…”

Dean crouched down and opened a drawer and a sideboard, getting Castiel the things he had asked for. A frown came to Dean’s forehead as he heard the term “veggies”.

“What are we cooking? I fear it will be awfully healthy,” he quipped, receiving an amused side glance from Castiel.

“In consideration of Bobby’s provisions, I’d say we’re cooking Hungarian goulash. It’s a hearty and saturating meal. And don’t worry, I’ve got a hunch you will like it. It’s also perfect for when you don’t know when someone will be back because it can cook for hours, that even makes it better”, Castiel said. He then put all the stuff on the kitchen counter they needed to prepare: onions, carrots, bell pepper, potatoes, and a cooled pack of beef from the fridge. Then Castiel got the instant broth, a can of diced tomatoes and many different spices. Dean watched him utterly mesmerized, how structured and concentrated Castiel was, how confident in his actions. It truly impressed him.

“You can start chopping the onions, I will chop the bell peppers,” Castiel instructed absentmindedly. After they had washed the veggies and their hands, they got to work. Dean focussed on the damn onions, trying not to cry but failing so miserably as they stung in his eyes. He laughed against the tears and tried to rub them away with the back of his hand. Castiel saw him struggle and laughed too.

“You gotta stick out your tongue. That always helps me,” he said and laughed even harder when Dean did so. Dean grinned at him, his tongue stuck out, knowing he looked absolutely stupid, but seeing the happy gleam in Castiel’s eyes was worth making a fool of himself. When he was done with the onions, Castiel told him to put them on a plate and to start chopping the meat into small cubes, while Castiel directed his attention to peeling the potatoes skillfully.

“Do you know the recipe by heart?” Dean asked incredulously, feeling Castiel’s body heat beside him. They stood side by side, awfully close, as they cut everything into pieces. Dean turned his head a little to the left, studying Castiel’s slightly bowed head as he peeled the potatoes, a fond smile sticking to his kissable lips. The faint sunlight was struggling through a rain cloud and finally broke through the window; a bright ray of it ensconced itself on Castiel’s head, making it seem as if he was carrying a halo. For a second, Dean forgot everything around him, and time stood still, as he basked in the knowledge of how beautiful Castiel was, what a gentle nature his body harbored. He even forgot chopping the meat for a while, feeling his skin prickle with the attraction and the longing he felt for Castiel.

Castiel, however, seemed completely unaware of Dean’s little emotional breakdown, unaware of his confusion and desire, for he just nodded and kept working.

“Yeah, of course,” his dark voice responded quietly. “I know a lot of recipes by heart. I usually cook and bake all the time. It’s a guilty pleasure.”

“Wow, that’s nice,” Dean said, impressed by Castiel’s skills. “I can cook a little, but only by following recipes. And usually, with my kind of work, I don’t have the time. I often get something to take away, like a sandwich or a burger,” Dean thought aloud. It made him crave French fries and a cheeseburger now. His heart was bleeding with the need for cholesterol.

“What kind of work are you pursuing?” Castiel asked curiously, ripping Dean out of his thoughts. He stole a slice of bell pepper from Castiel’s side and took a bite, ignoring Castiel’s indignant outcry with a cheeky grin.

“I’m a cop,” he replied, chewing his piece of bell pepper.

At that, Castiel stopped working, even put the knife down and fully regarded Dean with disbelief in his wonderful blue eyes. Humour was dancing in Castiel’s look, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

“ _You’re_ a cop?” he asked in disbelief, making Dean laugh briskly.

“Yeah, why not? What can I say, I just like donuts.”

Castiel shook his head and turned around again, starting to cut the potatoes into small squares.

“Everybody likes donuts. That’s not the _real_ reason you’re a cop, am I right?”

Dean studied Castiel for a little while, thinking about his question. He watched Castiel put some oil in a big pot, how he turned on the stove and waited for the oil to heat up. The question hung heavily in the air, and Dean realized Castiel was still waiting for an answer, but it took Dean a few more seconds to order the chaos in his head. There were so many answers to this question, and Dean didn’t know which one outweighed the other.

“If it’s too personal, you don’t have to answer,” Castiel cut him off then, before Dean could even utter a word; Castiel let the cut onions slide into the pan. A sizzling sound filled the kitchen, while the onions browned in the pot. All at once, Dean felt flustered, hesitant, shy even, but he wanted to share this part of him with Castiel, wanted him to know him better, if that even made sense. He breathed against the tension in his chest and shut his lids for a nanosecond, allowing his mind to sort the many different fleeting thoughts. Images of the past rushed before his mind’s eye. He saw a younger version of himself, holding the cold and dead hand of his father. How he had signed up for the police training program, grimness clouding his mind. He blinked against those images and returned to the here and now, finding himself standing in the bright, light-flooded kitchen.

“Nah, it’s all right. Well, it is indeed pretty personal, uhm… you know, my father died a few years ago – he was the guy who used to work with Bobby at his car yard. You know I used to work with Bobby here a while ago as well, before I became a cop. My father had a problem with alcohol, or, let’s say, had a problem being _without_ alcohol”, Dean started slowly, feeling Castiel’s burning eyes on him, sharp and knowing, seeing right through him and effortlessly understanding the pain he still carried within him. Dean tried to smile but failed miserably. He exhaled shakily, fought against the uprising agony in his heart, the voices of bygone days screaming within him. He really didn’t want to explore all the emotional baggage, which had been put on him in those past years.

“To make a long story short – it got really nasty, he was absolutely addicted. And I couldn’t help him. No matter what I did. Regardless whether I took all his booze away or locked him up, or sent him to a therapist or a rehab center – nothing worked, he just didn’t want any help. And I felt so… powerless. There was nothing I could do to make him better. One night, he drank himself to death. He swallowed some pills as well, but what killed him, in the end, was the overdose of alcohol in his veins. And this event made me question a lot of things, as you can imagine. It made me question my whole lifestyle, it made me question the job I was working – here at Bobby’s car yard, and I changed. I hated this feeling that I couldn’t save my dad. And I wanted to do better. I guess I became a cop because I needed a few wins. I needed to know that I could actually help people, even though my dad hadn’t been one of them. I couldn’t stand being in the same town where me and my dad had spent all our lives, there were too many memories attached to this place, so I moved away, and I signed up for the police training program… so, that was a major turning point in my life and one of the main reasons I became a cop.”

While Dean spoke, he busied himself with observing Castiel’s hands, how he continued cooking, calmly and concentrated, as if on autopilot. He took the meat cubes Dean had finished cutting and let them sizzle in the pot, then soon he added the broth and veggies, stirring everything, then turning down the heat as he let everything cook. When he realized Dean had paused for a moment, Castiel stopped in his movements and looked up at Dean, an expectant and gentle expression gleaming in his beautiful, sunlit eyes. He smiled carefully at Dean as if he was wordlessly encouraging him to continue. As if he had all the time in the world to listen to Dean explain himself and tell him of his life. Dean felt appreciated, as though Castiel was truly seeing him and truly caring about what Dean had to say. It simply felt deeply rewarding. This time, when Dean admired the gorgeous smile on Castiel’s plush pink lips, he managed to answer to the smile, felt how it warmed him thoroughly to the core.

“Another reason is probably my brother Sam and the university he had attended. Sam had only studied law for a year when our father had perished. I think the syllabus Sam had decided for had also rubbed off on me. All this talk about justice and laws and sentences,” he chuckled. “It’s kind of funny to have a lawyer and a cop in the family…”, he contemplated, seeing the grin widen on Castiel’s mouth. It did him the world of good that Castiel looked less glum during their conversation, that he even seemed lively and good-humored – this feeling also replaced the nervousness and uptightness in Dean’s soul with something akin to lightness; he felt completely unwound now. Maybe that was the reason why the next words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, before he could bite on his tongue and reconsider what he was actually saying

“Do you remember that you and I met before? On the night of Sam’s graduation ball, I mean,” Dean said breathlessly. Immediately Dean felt the heat rise up in his cheeks, up to his ears, and he was blushing fiercely. Why had he said that? Had he completely lost his marbles? Castiel’s response, however, made him freeze on the spot, and he blushed a shade darker, if that was even possible. He felt lightheaded as Castiel looked at him from underneath his lashes, his look taxing, fierce and hot. He gazed at Dean, a fire burning in his eyes, which spoke volumes, creating prickling goosebumps on Dean’s skin. Castiel gave him a once over, undressed him with his looks, and bit on his bottom lip, looking nothing but seductive. Dean’s fingers were itching for him, wanted to reach out and grab this inviting temptation right in front of him. The atmosphere was suddenly electric, stimulating, the air was on fire with the sexual tension between them.

“I remember, Dean,” Castiel said quietly, his dark voice almost a whisper. Dean gulped heavily, feeling terribly aroused. He watched Castiel’s pupils dilate. Dean dared to take a step forward, killing the space between their bodies, and he looked down into Castiel’s eyes, seeing his mouth standing slightly agape with utter fascination. How easy it would have been to tilt his head and kiss him senseless right now… Dean gaped at Castiel’s soft mouth, thinking about the texture of his lips, how they would feel against his. Then he looked into Castiel’s eyes again and smiled suavely, turning on the charm.

“Wanna help me remember some more?”

At that, Castiel gave Dean a toothy grin and turned around to the stove, his shoulders quaking a little with the laughter he was fighting against. Dean frowned. Damn it. Castiel was immune to his stupid pick-up lines. Also, what the hell had Dean been thinking? Making a move on Castiel like that, out of the blue? He was really losing his marbles. Castiel stirred the cooking veggies in the pot, still grinning somewhat.

“Highly inappropriate, Dean,” he only commented dryly. But then he turned his head again to Dean and gave him a wink, humor sparkling in his bright eyes. Dean couldn’t help but smile back, not even feeling stupid or awkward anymore. He sighed then, shrugged his shoulders as if to clear his head of thoughts of him and Castiel, and a lonely room, and a big bed, and undoing all the buttons of his shirt, and exposing his tanned skin and – He bit on his bottom lip, struggling to keep these thoughts and his hands at bay. Then he started cleaning up the kitchen, while Castiel helped him wordlessly, the goulash bubbling quietly in the background.

…

When Bobby had returned from his errands, they had a nice meal together, talking amicably about anything and everything. They were all enjoying the goulash, and Castiel refused any compliments, but rather repeated again his praises how Dean had helped him in the kitchen. Bobby, on the other hand, repeated again and again that he really didn’t care who had done what in the kitchen, because the result was what mattered, and he cherished Castiel’s cooking skills just like Dean did.

Dusk was already falling, when Dean secluded himself in his small guest room. He wanted to talk to Sam and check in on him. Wistfully he stared outside, how night was descending upon the landscape, robbing trees, grasses and bushes of their vibrant colors. He smiled when he heard the familiar voice he had grown up with, the voice he had listened to all his life.

“Hello? Dean?”

Dean fiddled with the curtain mindlessly, twisting the fabric between his fingers. He watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, creating a magnificent orange afterglow. A little smile crawled over his lips at hearing his younger brother through the phone. Suddenly, all the miles laying between them seemed to shrink.

“Hi ya, Sammy,” he said quietly. “How are you doing? How’s Jessica?”

He heard Jess calling greetings to him in the background, whereupon both he and Sam chuckled.

“Oh, she’s good. But she has started complaining about me as if I am the only one to blame for all of this. You know, she looks as if she is carrying a little basketball under her shirt by now – ouch, ouch, Jess, stop hitting me,” Sam laughed. Hearing the couple bickering made Dean inexplicably happy. He smiled to himself, feeling nothing but joy for the two. Jess was pregnant, and as she was now in the second trimester of her pregnancy, so it was natural that her middle was growing. He still couldn’t believe that soon he would be an uncle, that his baby brother would be a father.

“Yeah, well if she is complaining about you now, just you wait until your little baby girl is born. I think you’ve got a lifetime of complaining coming for you”, Dean joked.

“Well, I’m up for it. After all, I promised to love her in good times as in bad when I married her”, Sam said, and even though Dean couldn’t see him, he could perfectly picture lovestruck smile Sam was smiling. “Awww, aren’t you the sweetest guy ever. Come here, let me kiss you,” Jess cheered in the background and then Dean heard many smacking noises and frowned.

“Urgh, you two lovebirds are making me sick,” Dean laughed, feigning annoyance.

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” Sam replied. “Listen, Dean, Jess and I have been thinking about your idea. With little Mary on the way… I just can’t picture our lives without you as her uncle close in the picture. I heard from so many first-time parents that it’s always good to have some family as a support system, because, apparently, raising a little human being can get quite exhausting. Jess and I would feel better if we knew you’re close by. And what you told me about Bobby living such a solitary life… I think we owe him more than just a visit every now and then. He’s family, too, after all.”

Dean perked his ears up while Sammy talked. He felt nothing but giddy with excitement the more his brother said. A while ago, Dean had suggested that they all moved here to Sioux Falls in South Dakota. Apart from his job in St. Louis, Missouri, Dean didn’t have a lot of reasons to stay there any longer – especially after Lisa’s death, he couldn’t stand all the reminders he saw on a daily base. Sam and Jess had moved together after their graduation, but it had never sat right with either Sam or Dean that more than 2000 miles separated them from each other. A few times a year, Sam and Jess would jump on a plane (not Dean, for he was afraid of flying) and visit him and Bobby, but in the long run, it was unsatisfactory to not live a little closer to one another. Dean and Sam had always been close, and Dean missed his brother. He was glad that Sammy was feeling the same way, and that he wanted to include Dean in his and Jess’ little family’s life. None of them wanted to move back to Lawrence, Kansas, where too many painful memories still lingered in the air – and as they all knew about the quiet and family-friendly life in Sioux Falls, it seemed like a good idea to set up shop here and start anew.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I’m frigging thrilled, Sammy. Just a word of advice, though. You might want to consider moving before little Mary is born. I doubt moving with a newborn is fun.”

“Dean, you should know me better than that. Actually… well, we wanted to surprise you and Bobby, but I might as well tell you right now,” Sam laughed, “Jess and I already found a great house for rent in Sioux Falls, and we signed the lease contract this week. Dude, we’re packing our stuff now as we speak and will move in two months!”

“Wow,” Dean said, stunned. He grinned, feeling as if he had won the lottery. “Wow, I can’t believe it! Awesome!”

“Yeah. So now it’s your turn, Dean, we’re waiting for you to become a fellow citizen of the beautiful town Sioux Falls.”

Dean smiled, then bit on his bottom lip pensively. Until now, it had only ever been pipe dreams occupying his mind about leaving St. Louis and actually moving to South Dakota, but that had changed with this phone call. He wondered how quickly he could be transferred to another police station, how quickly he could find an apartment to live in… His to-do list was definitely growing, there was a lot he had to take care of now.

He and Sam continued talking for over half an hour, talking about this and that. It felt good to hear Sam’s familiar voice and to know that he was doing just fine. However, Dean got a little annoyed, when Sam kept asking him whether he was doing okay as well… because they both knew how Dean had suffered due to the loss of Lisa, and that her death was still afflicting him. But Dean just didn’t want to talk about Lisa anymore. It always led to the same dark road, to the same hapless emotions, and he just didn’t want to deal with this now. Therefore, he decided to change the subject.

“Hey, by the way, do you remember a guy called Castiel?” he asked out of the blue. There was a brief moment of confusion at the other end of the line.

“Castiel? You mean the guy, who went to Stanford law school like Jess and I did? That exemplary student everyone aspired to be like?” Sam asked in return. Dean smiled, having guessed that Sam would remember someone like Castiel. Of course, they wouldn’t have forgotten about him, since Castiel had been some kind of a popular star in their law school back then.

“Yeah. Exactly, _that guy_. Funny story. You know, I never told you this, but, uhm…on the night of your graduation ball, well, me and Cas, uhm, we kinda-,“ Dean mumbled, twisting the curtain in his fist nervously. Even now he felt the heat rising to his cheeks, how he went as red as a beet. This was kind of embarrassing. He had never talked with Sammy about this before.

“ _You and Cas?_ Wait, Dean, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Sam interrupted him, utterly astonished.

“Yeah, well. We got together that night. And man, it was _awesome_ ,” Dean recalled excitedly. He was licking his bottom lip when images of that night, all those years ago, reappeared in his inner eye. How sexy Castiel had looked, how good he had felt, his arms slung around Dean’s neck as they had moved together…

“Dean, you’re my brother and I love you just for who you are – but please spare me the details,” Sam wailed.

“What details? What are you talking about? Is Dean seeing someone again?” Jess squealed in the background, making Dean huff a brief laugh. Jess and her bubbly nature… he had immediately taken her into his heart when Sam had introduced them to each other all those years ago.

“Why are you telling me this now if you hadn’t told me then?”

Dean scratched the back of his head, knowing full well that he had started with this topic and that he had to finish it now, too. Damn it. He watched Castiel and Bobby through the window, how they suddenly appeared in the garden. Both men held a bottle of beer in their hand, and they took a seat on the old garden chairs – apparently, they had decided to sit outside and talk a little while. Understandably so, Dean thought, for the nights were comfortably warm now, and the air was wonderfully spicy. He beheld Castiel, the little smirk on his mouth while he talked to Bobby. Dean couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, remembering the heated-up atmosphere of this day when they had cooked in the kitchen…

“Well, Castiel is here now, at Bobby’s. Can you believe it? I didn’t even know Bobby and he were acquainted. Seems like they’re pretty close. Bobby told me he knows Castiel for years, that his mother was good friends with Karen.”

“Oh,” Sam just commented surprised.

“Yeah. Amen to that. Turns out Castiel was in an abusive relationship with this guy called Aaron, and a few nights ago, he just showed up on Bobby’s doorstep, all bloody and bruised. This Aaron beat him up _nastily_ , the poor dude had half his face swollen, his eye almost useless with all that swelling. I’ve seen some cases of domestic abuse in my time as a cop, believe me, but it’s rare to see it _that_ bad. It’s only ever this bad when someone wants to kill their partner. Thank God, Bobby let him stay here, and Castiel seems sane enough to leave the guy. So, now he is here indefinitely, looking for a new apartment or something…” Dean blathered.

Only now, while he told this gruesome tale to Sam, he fully understood how lucky Castiel was, that he had gotten out and to a safe place before Aaron could have done even more damage. There were too many cases on the news of men and women not making it out in time, whose tombs were now joining the club of the deceased in the graveyard.

“Oh, wow. He must feel like crap. I’m so sorry… but still, Dean. I’m - I’m wondering why you’re telling me all of this right now? I mean, suddenly you’re confessing that you have slept with him,” Sam started a little confused, interrupted by Jess’ shrieked “Dean has slept with _who_?”, and Dean all at once realized that his younger brother was really clever and that it was of no use to make up a lame lie now. Sam was seeing right through his act, even if they were just talking on the phone, and he wasn’t falling for any of his tricks.

“… and now you’re telling me that he is staying in the same house as you, under the same roof… Wait. Wait – no, no Dean, you’re not saying that you’re hitting on him? Please don’t tell me you’re trying to hit on a guy who has just been through hell, who has been beaten up by his partner?”

Dean laughed nervously, realizing how stupid all of this sounded. He remembered his and Castiel’s conversation in the kitchen today, how he had tested his charm on the other man… yeah, maybe that hadn’t been his best idea.

“Naaah, I would never do that, Sammy,” Dean said, trying to play it cool, “you know me, I’m a good guy.”

Dean frowned when there was a second of meaningful silence. He could perfectly imagine Sam’s reprimanding scowl – and somehow, he suddenly felt as if someone had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Dean, _don’t._ Whatever you’re thinking: _Don’t. Do. It._ Got it? Bad idea, very bad idea. No one should _ever_ hit on someone, who has just gotten out of an abusive relationship. The guy needs time to get over this, to process what has happened to him. The last thing he needs right now is another man trying to get into his pants. And yeah, I know you, that’s why I’m telling you to stop thinking with your dick!” Sam scolded him, making Dean smile a lopsided smile.

“Well. You might have a point there, Sammy. But he’s really, really gorgeous. Ugh, he’s just so handsome. And we’ve got this weird chemistry, there’s definitely something going on between us. I can’t really put my finger on it, but the guy is arousing my curiosity. And, well, after Lisa…” Dean clicked his tongue when another hot wave of agony washed over him with brute force, “he’s the first person after Lisa I’m honestly interested in. Didn’t you and Jess tell me all the time I had to move on and find somebody new?”

There was a moment of ruminative silence at the other end of the line. Dean counted the seconds, listened to his loud heartbeat thumping in his ears. He was all rattled, surprised by the intensity of this emotional turmoil within him. Castiel had gotten under his skin quick – and while it fascinated Dean, it also scared him a little bit.

“Don’t get me wrong, Dean, I’m frigging happy for you. It’s good to hear you found someone again, who you can picture yourself with,” Sam said quietly, and Dean could already hear the imminent “but”, which would be followed by one of Sam’s typical smart-alecky sermons. He was proven right a nanosecond later. “But right now may not be the best time for Castiel to seek any romantic relationship with anybody. Like I said, he probably needs a lot of time to process what has happened to him. If I were in his shoes, I would rather want a friend who supports me than a lover… you get my drift.”

Dean sighed, willing the lump forming in his throat. Deep down inside of him, he knew that Sam was right. But when then had Castiel looked at him like that, as if he wanted to jump on his bones right there and then? And why did it feel so good to spend time with him and talk to him? Dean stared outside and regarded Castiel conversing with Bobby. Dusk was creeping out from underneath the bushes, and moths were flying near the lamp lit near the house. Castiel’s eyes were following the flight path of fireflies flashing up here and there, and even from the distance, Dean could see the fondness within Castiel’s eyes, the little smile on his kissable mouth. Again, he sighed and closed his lids. He felt the pain thriving within him, getting a hold of him again. He thought fate was a little unfair to him, presenting someone like Castiel to him, and simultaneously making it impossible for them to be together.

“Alright, I’ll behave. And yeah, I’ll be a friend to Cas. He surely needs all the support he can get, as it is. It’s not an easy situation he’s in, and I wanna help him get through it safe and sound. I just care about him, can’t help it.”

“Good,” Sam said. “Very mature choice, Dean”, he quipped with a chuckle. Dean rolled his eyes at that.

“And remember: Don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”

They hung up a little while later. Dean decided to sleep off his bad mood and that it was better if he didn’t see Bobby or Castiel tonight. He was all quiet and musing when he prepared for bed, got changed and brushed his teeth. When he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he detected the questioning expression of his eyes, wondering what he was doing with his life, where all of this was or wasn’t leading to. He breathed the uprising panic away as it started gagging him. This night, he slept poorly. Memories of Lisa were haunting him, and they intermingled with visions of Castiel, of his blue eyes, his sweet smile, the gentle touch of his hand… When Dean woke up the next morning, vivid images of Castiel still on his mind, his heart was heavy. It was then that Dean knew he had a problem.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jess in this, she is cute hehe... sooo what do you think? Lemme know :-)


	5. Lighting a candle, saying a prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yelp, another Sunday. Where has the time gone? Due to this stupid Corona pandemic, my life has become pretty stressful, new work routine and so on. Phew. Every Sunday, I feel like a zombie - but I haven't really found another day yet to update this story, as I'm knackered every other day as well, lol. Anyhow, here is the next chapter! 
> 
> Thanks for your comments, bookmarks and kudos so far!

**Chapter 5 – Lighting a candle, saying a prayer**

It was a rainy, sleepy Sunday morning in the first week of Castiel’s stay at Bobby’s house. Five whole days had passed ever since he had knocked on Bobby’s door, all beaten up and battered. By now, his face didn’t look nearly as bad and bruised as it had, and Dean didn’t hear Castiel cry every night, so that was worth a little something. Dean had worried for him constantly, wondering whether Castiel would break under the pressure and emotional turmoil he was going through, but now he was more or less assured Castiel would make it.

Today, however, Dean was completely focused on himself and his inner life, for a change. He was utterly preoccupied, miles away in his head, as he sat at the kitchen table. Dean cradled a warm cup of coffee in his hands and sipped the brown beverage every once in a while. Bobby was baking a pie, and the sounds of him rummaging in drawers and cabinets filled the kitchen, intermingled with the quiet noise of the radio playing old, classic rock music. Dean sighed heavily as he thumbed through the small photo album Lisa had given him for their second anniversary. Their last anniversary. It contained many photos of them as a couple – on the job in their police car, both of them dressed in their uniforms; on the couch, chilling after work and watching a movie; in the park, taking a stroll in spring while all the flowers around them were blooming…

Dean frowned as he beheld Lisa in the photos, as he studied her beautiful eyes looking at him, her perfect white teeth, a toothy smile in every photo. This time of his life seemed so far away, so out of reach, kind of like it had never happened. Lisa’s eyes appeared dead to him, like a painted image – and the memories attached to the photos, they didn’t even feel real, more like the evens had happened to somebody else but Dean. He looked at himself in the photos and marveled at the happy gleam in his own eyes, his love-struck features, his soft smiles around Lisa. He had truly been full of bliss in their relationship, and he wondered if he ever found someone like Lisa again, someone who would make him just as happy. He focussed on Lisa’s brown eyes, a terrible wave of sadness washing over him and carrying him away when he remembered their staring, blank expression the day she had died. How those hazel eyes had lost every idea of life, of light, how they had gone dark forever…

“Is that your girlfriend?”

Suddenly, Castiel was standing behind Dean, a cup of coffee in his hands as well. Dean startled out of his thoughts, wincing at Castiel’s question. Dean didn’t know what to say as he looked up into Castiel’s face, who had tilted his head and contemplated Dean with a calm expression, a tender smile on his mouth while their eyes locked.

“Touchy subject, Cas. I wouldn’t go there,” Bobby grumbled while he put together the components of the pie.

Dean could finally free himself from his paralysis and returned Castiel’s smile. Then he pulled out the chair right next to him in an inviting manner, and Castiel sat down beside him.

“It’s all right, Bobby. He couldn’t know,” he said quietly. Then he closed the photo album and put it aside pointedly, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from it completely. With his forefinger, he patted on it, wondering if he could let the topic ever rest. He sensed Castiel’s body heat right next to him, present like the feeling of sunlight on one’s skin, and he felt drawn to him, longed to find some peace in his embrace. It would have been so easy to let go of himself in Castiel’s arms, to inhale his soapy, clean scent, and take a rest for a little, a rest from all the things troubling Dean. A weary sigh escaped his mouth when he realized he couldn’t have that, that he had to continue being on his own.

“She _was_ my girlfriend. Her name was Lisa. She was killed more than a year ago. Fifteen months ago, to be exact. We were partners, and most of the time, we had shifts together and went on patrol together,” Dean said slowly. He dared to look up at Castiel and was surprised to see Castiel was watching him for his part as well, a shocked and commiserating look in his bright blue eyes. The wind was whistling around the house, and the raindrops were showering against the windows; inside of here, it was calm, dry and safe, and Dean felt cozy somehow, well protected from the outer world. Castiel reached out a hand and encompassed Dean’s quite naturally, squeezing his fingers tightly as a silent understanding, wordless support. Dean bit on the insides of his cheeks, struggling to keep the uprising emotions at bay; his throat constricted with pain as he studied the soulful look of Castiel’s eyes, how the other man shared the agony Dean was going through.

“Did she… did she die on the job?” Castiel asked. Dean smiled sadly. He remembered the day Lisa had died as if it was yesterday. The happy memories of their time together felt surreal, far away like a long-lost dream – but the memories of the pain, of losing Lisa, these memories were sharp as ever, still a stake in Dean’s heart. He doubted it would ever go away.

“No, ironically enough, she didn’t. It was a warm and dry spring day, I still remember that, and Lisa and I had a day off. We went downtown for some window-shopping and eating out, nothing special. Somehow, we ended up in this infamous area, a neighborhood with a bad reputation. We knew this corner of the town from our patrols and had been there often enough. But on that day, we weren’t really thinking anything about it. There was this Italian fast food restaurant we liked to frequent, and we had lunch there. When we were done and left the restaurant, there was a fight on the street. Just a few thugs in their twenties, some wannabe gangsters, trying to solve an argument with guns. Suddenly there were shots being fired. I didn’t even have time to react. We got into the crossfire of those two gangs. And then Lisa was on the ground. A bullet had hit her in the middle… her shirt was soaked in blood.”

Dean felt tears welling up in his eyes as the image reappeared in his mind’s eye, clear as ever. He recalled the fear in Lisa’s eyes, his inability to save her, his overwhelming powerlessness. He let the tears flow freely, not giving a damn about what either Bobby or Castiel were thinking. He shook his head, full of sorrow and still not accepting what had happened back then.

“I called 911 immediately. But it was too late. She had internal bleedings, and by the time the medics arrived, she had bled to death in my arms.”

Dean sniffled a little, then he brushed with his hand over his eyes, wiping the tears away. He looked at the photo album on the table, thinking of the life he had led with Lisa, thinking how unfair it was that she had to die. She had been way too young to die; all of her life had lain ahead of her.

“It was one of the worst things that have ever happened to me. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, to hold someone you love in your arms and watch them die.” He clicked his tongue, battling against the emotional breakdown, which was approaching. He just wanted to lay down in bed and cry his eyes out, but Dean knew it would lead to nowhere – he had been there before, and it didn’t bring back Lisa. He felt Castiel’s thumb brushing over the back of his hand, rubbing small circles into his skin in a soothing, tender manner. It made Dean smile carefully, but still, he didn’t have the strength to look up or unglue his eyes from the photo album.

“After that, I took three months off from work. I had some savings, so I took a long road trip to clear my head. I was mourning for Lisa and trying to find the strength to move on. Bobby knows all about it because I often visited him back then as well. I owe him a lot. He put me back together,” Dean chuckled. Finally, the darkness let go of him and released him. He could breathe easier now, and he inhaled and exhaled deeply. All at once, he felt the weight of Bobby’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing it amicably.

“You did well, son. I might have given you some advice, but in the end, it was you alone, who managed that. You put yourself back together again. And I know it ain’t easy to lose your partner – you boys both know that I lost my wife, too. But life continues, as hard as that may sound. And it _can_ be good again if you really give it a chance. So…” Bobby sighed and smiled wistfully at them, “do me a favor, boys. Live your life, and don’t give a damn what anyone thinks about how you live it. Tomorrow you could be dead. So, enjoy the time you have, and surround yourself with people that are good for you.” Here he looked at Castiel pointedly, and Castiel seemed to have understood the hint because he looked solemnly and nodded at Bobby. Then Bobby returned to the oven and put the pie inside.

Castiel was still holding Dean’s hand, and it made Dean all tingly inside. Castiel’s hand was soft and warm, his fingers strong and slender, and they clutched Dean’s palm in a tight grip, somehow grounding Dean and keeping him in the here and now. Castiel regarded Dean thoughtfully, studying Dean’s face attentively.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Dean.”

Dean nodded and bit on his bottom lip, not knowing what to say.

“Why don’t you join me going to church? You could light a candle for Lisa,” Castiel proposed, his voice suddenly lively, and Dean looked up, confused and perplexed. What he hell? Right, he remembered Castiel was pretty religious. He didn’t know how to feel about Castiel’s suggestion – it seemed odd, like a strange thing to do. He gave voice to his thoughts.

“And why, exactly, do you think that would do any good? It certainly won’t bring back Lisa,” he said a little irritated. But Castiel just smiled calmly at him, a glimmer of indestructible serenity resting in the depth of his eyes.

“Some people won’t eat anything they’ve never seen before,” muttered Bobby while he cleaned the kitchen counter. Dean frowned at him. Where did Bobby’s sudden affirmation of religion and its rites come from?

“When you light a candle, Dean,” Castiel started, and his voice was soft and low, filled with kindness and patience, which touched Dean’s heart deeply, “you honor the dead and create a connection to the person you have lost. It’s a way to pay respect to them, to remember them. I assume you probably don’t share my beliefs about God and the church, but I firmly believe… that it wouldn’t do you harm to take a few minutes out of your day to bestow this honor on Lisa. It might even let you find some peace. It surely always helps me when I light a candle for my mother. After leaving the church, I always feel, I don’t know, down to earth, as if it makes me recover my roots…”

Tranquility flooded Dean’s whole body, warmed it through and through when he got lost in Castiel’s quiet narrations. He watched the zealous light glowing in his eyes when he spoke thus passionately. Dean tried to picture himself on his knees in a church, how he might feel once he lit a candle for Lisa and contemplated their story from beginning to end. And suddenly, he felt this incredible urge to feel the peace Castiel had spoken of, to let off the steam, which was constantly arising in his head. He studied Castiel’s face then, and Castiel’s small smile was contagious. Dean got up.

“Okay. Let’s go, buddy,” he decided. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bobby was grinning.

“Bobby, why don’t you join us?” he asked, whereupon the older man just shrugged with his shoulders.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m staying here with the pie.”

 _Good choice_ , Dean thought, _good choice_.

…

There was a quiet murmur in the church when Castiel and Dean entered. A few churchgoers were sitting or kneeling in the pews, their heads tilted, their fingers intertwined for their prayers. Some fiddled with a rosary and muttered their Hail Mary, some just stared absentmindedly into the air. Near the tabernacle, there was an iron candle holder, in which at least thirty candles were already flickering. Dean watched Castiel plunging his right hand into the holy water stoup near the heavy wooden entrance doors, and how he formed a cross with his hands on his forehead and chest. Dean was utterly mesmerized when he observed the sobriety and wholeheartedness coming to life on Castiel’s mien when he quickly said: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” When he was done, he turned to Dean with a brittle smile and nodded towards the candle holder at the end of the aisle.

“You don’t have to do as I do, it’s just custom to perform this once you enter a church. It’s supposed to call the Holy Spirit to you and expel all evil. Also, I like the smell of the water,” Castiel finished with a small chuckle. Dean couldn’t help but smile, thinking of Castiel as nothing but endearing. However, he didn’t really sense the need to dive his hand into the Holy Water as well, so they went to the end of the nave. They passed by the other men and women, and Dean realized most of them were elderly, but there were a few younger people here as well, and they regarded Dean with sharp, knowing eyes – eyes, which spoke of pain and loss, the same turbulences he had gone through. Maybe their pain had brought them here, maybe they hadn’t been religious before… Dean felt less weird when he understood he wasn’t the only one under seventy here, that it was completely normal for some younger people to go to church, that no one was judging him here.

They stopped in front of the candle holder near the altar; Castiel threw a few coins into a donation box and gave Dean a tealight wordlessly. Castiel lit his own candle on the wick of an already burning candle and placed it down next to it carefully. For a moment, Dean got carried away, never tiring of looking at how beautiful Castiel was in the candlelight, how all these many, little flames danced joyfully in Castiel’s deep blue eyes. Soft shades were crawling over his fine, immaculate face. Briefly, Dean wondered how it was possible to be so fair. Castiel seemed as if he belonged here, as if this place was an extension of his being – and Dean felt like an intruder, as if he was getting deeply private insights into Castiel’s soul; insights not everyone was allowed to see. He asked himself whether Aaron had ever gotten to witness Castiel like this. The black-haired man knelt down in front of the candle holder and bowed his head, already lost in prayer.

Dean finally lit his own candle and imitated Castiel’s actions. They were kneeling side by side, and for a second, it appeared strangely intimate and awkward to Dean. He could hear Castiel’s quiet breathing, he could feel his presence right beside him… but then his thoughts wandered off to Lisa, and he remembered why he had come here in the first place, and soon, he wasn’t paying attention to anything surrounding him any longer.

Images of Lisa appeared in his mind’s eye. Fleetingly. As soon as he tried to behold them and contemplate them for a little while, they were gone again. Her beaming smile lit up the darkness in his vision. Her gorgeous fawn brown eyes carrying fondness for him, understanding, love. He focussed on the pain, felt it increase in his chest. Dean took a deep breath, trying to breathe against the pain, to make it shrink. But it only got worse. And then, he was overflowed with his memories, as if a dam had suddenly burst. They were hitting him with an intensity that took his breath away. Lisa’s laughter, as clear as a bell, when they had first met, and when Dean had tested a few pick-up-lines on her. The sensation of her smooth hair yielding to his touch, running through his fingers. Her warm skin, her feathery kisses in the morning. The feeling of holding her in long embraces. Suddenly, she was _there_ again, as if Dean had never lost her. And then, he could see her looking up to him, meeting his eyes. A melancholic smile graced her lips. Dean could almost feel how her hand gently caressed his cheek, how it came to rest on his shoulder.

“You’ve got to let me go, Dean. You’ve got to let me go,” she whispered. It felt as if the rug was pulled from under him, as if he was endlessly falling, falling, falling. How could she ask him to do that? How could he ever let her go?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t safe you, Liz. I’m so sorry,” Dean said in his mind. It only amplified the wistfulness in Lisa’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Dean. You didn’t do anything wrong. I love you, Dean.”

And all at once, she was gone again. The vision of her evaporated into the black void all around Dean, and he was all alone with his thoughts. Just the echo of her voice reverberated in his head, a never-ending singsong of Lisa’s “I love you, Dean”, becoming quieter and quieter, until it nearly faded away for good. He opened his eyes again. He was still in this little church, kneeling on the cold ground, with Castiel beside him. And Lisa was still gone. Dean didn’t feel any kind of peace Castiel had talked about, quite contrary – he felt _wrath, desperation._ He needed to get some air. He needed to get out of here. With a side glance, he regarded Castiel, still deeply devoted to his own personal prayer; Dean didn’t want to disturb him, so he just got up and quietly whispered “I meet you outside,” whereupon Castiel briefly nodded.

When Dean stepped outside, he was blinded by the glaring bright light of the day. After the darkness within the church, the whiteness almost ached in his eyes. He was panting, felt a heavy tightness in his chest, as if someone was sitting on top of his lungs. The contours around him faded to some degree, he felt dizzy. He was a nervous wreck as he started walking up and down the little place in front of the church, waiting for Castiel. Why had he decided to come here, to honestly attempt praying to Lisa? It had only made things worse – to be so close to her again, it had all seemed so real, as if she had been _right there._ The experience overwhelmed Dean, he was all jittery and struggling to breathe normally. When would this ever stop? Lisa had died over a year ago, and most of the time he was doing fine, but today… today was really tough for him. He had calmed down somewhat when Castiel finally exited the church, blinking against the sunlight as he walked up to Dean.

And suddenly, all of Dean’s wrath bundled and focussed on Castiel. Dean couldn’t stand the peacefulness in his eyes, this endless sea of calmness. He was envious of Castiel, that he had found the peace Dean so direly needed. He hated the little smile playing on his lips as he studied Dean’s face attentively. Dean was seething, and he didn’t even know why. Castiel had only meant well, he was sure of it, but right now, Dean couldn’t think clearly. All he was, was pissed, and he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.

“Well, that didn’t work for me at all, Cas. It only got worse! Why the hell did you drag me along to this place?” he vented his anger. He immediately regretted it when sorrowfulness manifested on Castiel’s clean-cut face, how grieved he seemed.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I thought it could-“

“Well, _it didn’t._ Let’s go,” Dean interrupted him impatiently. Then he walked away to his waiting Impala, and Castiel followed him in silence. Dean heard the gravel crunch underneath his boots, heard his own quick steps, felt how erratic he was moving. He couldn’t wait to get out of here. He knew full well he was behaving like a total douchebag, but it was beyond his control at the moment. Soon, the Impala was roaring, as they left the city center and the little church far behind. Dean was speeding, wearing a grim frown, as he drove with his foot down to the floor. Bobby’s place was only five more miles away, and the way Dean was driving, they would be there in a few minutes. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean realized Castiel was contemplating him curiously, anxiously. 

“I’m sorry I have upset you, Dean,” Castiel then said quietly, and all at once, Dean’s anger evaporated, and he was sorry for his stupid behavior. Castiel probably had enough of angry men, he fleetingly thought, especially after Aaron. He slowed the car down noticeably. He turned his head to Castiel quickly and gave him a soft smile.

“No, I’m sorry, Cas. It’s not your fault. I… I just got so pissed off, and I let it out on you. I’m sorry. It’s just… I saw Lisa in my mind, as if she had never left, as if she was still alive. And it moved a place in my heart I thought I had overcome. It was as if all healed wounds had suddenly opened again, as if I hadn’t mended in all those months at all. I guess it’s just a temporary thing, that I will sleep on it and be fine again tomorrow. But right now, I have half a mind to drive this car at full speed into the nearest brick wall.”

Castiel exhaled a long sigh, blowing up his cheeks like pufferfish – Dean saw it and couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“That would be a shame, Dean,” he said with a cute tilt of his head, “because _I_ am in this car, and I really don’t wanna die today. Let me get out first, then you can crash into your wall,” he deadpanned. Dean was amused and annoyed at the same time.

“Son of a bitch. You really have some dark kind of humor, you know that?” he teased, incapable of hiding the grin.

For a second, there was amicable silence in the car. The atmosphere seemed less tense now, gentler, as both men clung to their own private thoughts.

“You know, when my mother died, I was only a teenager. And I felt the same fury as you do now. Oh, I was boiling over with rage, and I let the world know very well how much I was hurting. I questioned _everything_ – God, the world, authorities, everything. Whoever wanted to help me or even talk to me, I shooed them all away, cursed them. I didn’t want any help; I wanted my mom back. But then, after a year or so, I stopped being angry. There was one day when I visited my mother’s grave in the middle of winter. The days before had been bleak and gray, and it had snowed a lot – it seemed as if the sun would never come out again…” Castiel narrated. Dean could already see Bobby’s house in the distance as they drove down the country road. He dared to risk another lengthy side glance at Castiel, and he admired his melancholic smile, the heartache in his eyes, while he remembered bygone times.

“And when I stood there in front of her grave, wondering where my life was leading, what I would do without her, where the purpose of it all was… suddenly, there was this bright ray of light struggling through the clouds. And it came to rest right on my mother’s grave and me – all the other graves surrounding me were still plunged into darkness. And I turned around and beheld the sky; there was a little spot of azure amidst the dark gray clouds… And then I knew…”

Dean steered the Impala carefully into Bobby’s driveway at walking speed. He parked the car and killed the engine. Then he fully turned his attention to Castiel and faced him; his jaw nearly dropped when he studied the profound calmness on his features, how beautiful he looked, how _arrived,_ as if he knew exactly where he belonged.

“What did you know?” Dean asked breathlessly. Castiel’s eyes met his, and he smiled lopsidedly at Dean, shaking his head a little in a nixing way.

“You may not like it, and it might sound odd to you… But I had found God. Or, to put it right, I knew then that _God_ had found _me_. It put everything into perspective. It changed my life for the better. I didn’t want to feel all this pain and desperation any longer. I realized that God only puts us through what we can stand, that he would never demand more from us than what we can take. There is a plan, Dean, that only God knows. And once I put all of my trust into my belief and his plan, that he would guide me… I let go of all the pain and gave myself over wholly to him.”

Dean was speechless. He had never heard anyone talk like that before. So intimately, openly, about the deepest part of their being. He felt tears stinging in his eyes as he regarded Castiel, because, even though he wasn’t believing in the same thing as Castiel did, he couldn’t stand how precious Castiel was, full of faith and unswerving goodliness. Dean didn’t believe in God, but at this moment, he believed in Castiel. Gingerly, he reached out his hand and touched Castiel’s laying on his thigh. Their fingers intertwined naturally, and Dean squeezed his hand once, affirmatively. His eyes wandered all over Castiel’s face, looking his fill.

“Must be nice to feel that way,” Dean muttered, his voice husky with emotion – and now, he wasn’t envious of Castiel anymore, he was truly glad for him that Castiel had found a way out of his own misery. Castiel regarded him pensively, a cryptic smile on his mouth. He looked down at their intertwined hands and Dean thought he detected a faint blush spreading on Castiel’s cheeks.

“After my mother died, I was all alone, Dean. I didn’t have any relatives or acquaintances, who could take care of me. I was all alone in the world, and I wasn’t even an adult yet. I needed someone to look up to, someone who would never let me down, who I could put all my trust into. And I think it’s reassuring to know he has a plan for me, a path I cannot always see, but a path already paved for me. It’s a reason to get up in the morning. A reason _not to_ crash your car against the nearest wall,” he ended with a sly grin. Dean sighed and closed his eyes. He felt Castiel’s thumb stroking the back of his hand compassionately, and it gave him strength, calmed his nerves. He could breathe easier again.

“I wish I had the same faith as you, but I don’t see it like that, Cas. What kind of God makes you meet someone like Aaron? What kind of God allows him to make your life a living hell?” he questioned. He opened his eyes again and stared at Castiel challengingly, but Castiel just smiled at him melancholically.

“Aaron was a test for my faith, true. But I believe there was a reason he had come into my life, to make me understand a few things. Just like there’s a reason that you and I met again. I feel like you were sent to me as a blessing, to help me get through all of this… I… I can’t even put it into proper words, Dean. It’s all confusion in my head… But I’m so happy to have met you again, Dean. I’m just happy you’re here.”

Dean’s heart stumbled violently at hearing that. It took his breath away. He felt as if struck by lightning, but so overall happy, it made him completely giddy. Castiel was the sweetest guy he had ever met, and to hear these honest and heartfelt words escaping his kissable lips… it made Dean feel as if he was on top of the world. He couldn’t stifle the grin coming to life on his mouth. Castiel caught the feisty glimmer in Dean’s eyes and beheld him with a frown.

“What?” Castiel asked defensively, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t make fun of me, Dean. I mean it!” he protested. Dean shook his head, still smiling. Castiel, that dumb son of a bitch, absolutely not understanding what was going on inside of him. He leaned in a little closer, over the gearbox, so that his face was closer to Castiel’s. Then he stared him deeply in the eyes, loving how Castiel tensed up due to his physical nearness. He could practically feel how he held in his breath, looking at Dean with big, blue eyes. Dean could count the thick lashes on his eyes, they were so close. Blindly and driven by a feral instinct, Dean raised their still-linked hands and turned Castiel’s – he tilted his head then and put a feathery little kiss on the back of his hand. In doing so, Dean could inhale the soapy scent of Castiel’s skin, the taste of salt and sweat lingered on his lips. They were tingling like crazy when he let go of Castiel’s hand then and regarded him once more. Now the blush on Castiel’s face had intensified, and he looked nothing but gorgeous, like a ripe fruit waiting to be picked. Dean could have kissed him right there and then. His eyes ghosted over Castiel’s chest, which revealed his hectic and shallow breathing, as if he didn’t believe this was really happening.

“You know…,” Dean mumbled, “maybe your God sent you to me, too. Maybe he knew I needed someone who still sees good in everything, who still believes there’s a purpose behind all of this.” Dean contemplated his words for a moment, feeling a weight was suddenly taken off his mind. The idea of fate came as a relief. When Dean admired Castiel’s dolce smile and the fair light twinkling in his beautiful eyes as they looked at each other, Dean didn’t doubt for a second that Castiel was the most angelic being he had ever met.

“Maybe you’re a blessing to me, too, Cas,” he ended in a whisper, his voice choked up with emotion.

For a few seconds, they studied one another, their eyes traveling all over each other. Dean saw the heat in Castiel’s eyes, felt the tension in the air. His whole body was on pins and needles. He would have loved to kiss Castiel right now, to feel him as close as possible. But was that even appropriate? Hadn’t Sam warned him not to walk down that road? What if he had misunderstood Castiel’s words, was reading way too much into this? Castiel then sighed lengthily and beheld Dean with a sweet smile, humor dancing in his eyes.

“Thank you, Dean. I take it as a compliment,” he laughed. Dean watched him open the passenger door, about to go.

“Yeah, it _was_ meant as a compliment,” Dean muttered, not too happy that Castiel got out of the car so soon. Where the hell had their moment suddenly disappeared to? Maybe he had really misread the signs? He got out of the Impala too and locked the doors, fiddling with the keys in his hand.

“Now you’re just trying to get into my pants,” Castiel laughed and wandered off, leaving a baffled Dean behind. In disbelief, he gazed after Castiel walking to Bobby’s house. So Castiel knew quite well about Dean’s motives and…

“Come on, Winchester!” Castiel yelled, and laughing, Dean followed quickly.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think :-)


	6. A tiny bubble of safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty folks, who's up for an update ;) I'm gonna switch the update day now to Thursday and Sunday in turns, as it suits me better at the moment. Ok, so lemme see, where are our two lovebirds...

**Chapter 6 – A tiny bubble of safety**

The second week of Castiel’s stay at Bobby’s had begun. Dean was astonished how quickly time seemed to pass here; he felt the days rushing past him like an express train, already he was dreading the approaching day when he would have to return to St. Louis and his lonely apartment.

Dean was standing in Bobby’s kitchen and preparing lunch for them all. He had decided it was high time for self-made French fries and burgers, one of his specialties. Bobby had a liking for this dish, and Dean wanted to give the old man a treat. Also, he kind of desired to impress Castiel, but he only acknowledged that thought half-heartedly. He was just cutting the potatoes into long squares with precision, a concentrated frown on his forehead. His thoughts fled to Castiel, wondering if he was doing okay.

Castiel hadn’t gone to work ever since he had stepped over Bobby’s doorstep last Monday. His face hadn’t healed completely yet, but he almost looked quite normal again, so Dean assumed that Castiel was probably going to return to his workplace this week. He wondered if Castiel could endure being back in his normal work environment, if people might talk shit about him and the obvious traces of a fierce physical abuse. Just the way it was right now, even without performing his job as a judge, Dean could tell that Cas wasn’t coping too well. After visiting the church yesterday and talking so openly with him about faith and losses, Castiel had secluded himself in his room for the better part of the day… Dean had gone to bed pretty late, and when he had returned from the bathroom and walked along the corridor, he had seen a ray of light still shining through the door to Castiel’s room. Apparently, Castiel had trouble falling asleep. At breakfast this morning, Castiel had looked crumpled and weary – he hadn’t talked a lot, and his appetite had been poor.

Dean feared Castiel was shying away from him and Bobby, avoiding any conversation that would put flesh on the bones. And who could blame him? If he was in his place, Dean assumed, he wouldn’t wanna talk about Aaron or what was going on inside of him as well… However, Dean feared Castiel was heading down a road, which led to no good ending, and that his behavior started damaging him. Sure, the fellow needed time to himself, but Dean wasn’t so sure that Castiel was really healing or moving forward; it seemed to him that Castiel was stuck on the past, that despair was slowly but surely getting to him.

He just felt pity for Castiel, wished he could take some of his pain away. The question arose in Dean what he could do to get through to Castiel, how he could help him. Was he supposed to just let him rot up there in his room indefinitely? With agitated movements, Dean cut through the potatoes, taking his frustration out on the poor vegetables.

It was then that he heard Castiel talking on the phone upstairs. That had also happened recently, the daily phone calls. Judging from the angry and unnerved sound of Castiel’s voice, they weren’t pleasant conversations. Dean didn’t mean to be nosey, but he couldn’t help but wonder who Cas was talking to all the time. In the last days, the number of calls had increased, and Castiel’s words had gotten louder, more agonized. Dean already knew Castiel’s ringing tone by heart, and by now, he despised Mozart’s “Turkish March wholeheartedly. While he cooked, he listened to the sounds upstairs carefully. Castiel’s exasperated voice became loud at once. Then there was silence. Castiel’s phone rang again. Castiel picked up and snarled something. Then the phone rang again. Relentlessly. Dean had enough. He got a pretty good idea of what was going on, and who was terrorizing Castiel like that. He placed down the knife, wiped his hands clean with a kitchen towel, and ascended the stairs.

Just before he had reached Castiel’s room, Castiel had picked up the phone again. Dean could hear snippets of the conversation.

“Damn it, I told you not to call me again… No, I’m not coming home… I don’t care. It’s none of your business where I’m staying or who I’m staying with. Just… leave me alone, for Christ’s sake," Castiel gnarled angrily. _Aaron_ , Dean thought woozily. A mighty urge to protect Castiel from even more damage awoke in Dean, and he stomped into the room. Castiel turned around to him, still on the phone, pacing up and down the small room restlessly. Dean stopped in his tracks and beheld Castiel with horror. He looked like a mess. His whole body was trembling, cold sweat was on his brows. He clutched the phone in a tight grip, a tortured look in his eyes. This had gone way too far, Dean decided. He walked up to Castiel and gently took the phone out of his hands, in doing so, his eyes meeting Castiel to ask for his permission. Castiel let go of the phone, absolutely wrecked and at the end of his tether. He nodded subtly, allowing Dean to do whatever he wanted.

“Listen, you son of a bitch," Dean growled into the phone. His voice was alarmingly low and threatening, and he made sure to put all the malice he felt into his words. “You’re lucky Cas is not pressing charges. You leave Cas alone if he tells you so. You will not call again. And if you do, you got a storm coming for you, got it?”

And with that, he hung up, grim satisfaction coursing through his veins. He made double-sure that Castiel wouldn’t get harassed again and turned off the phone. He threw the phone on the bed, then he raised his eyes to Castiel’s. Infinite compassion filled Dean’s heart when he realized how worn out Castiel was. Tears of utter despair were welling in his eyes, and he breathed strenuously, as if he was about to hyperventilate. He was still trembling nervously.

“Thank you,” he said in a suffocating way, trying and failing to smile.

Dean took a step forward, then, and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. Their chests collided, and Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s middle to hold him closer. He could feel Castiel’s hectic breathing, felt him vibrate and shake in his arms. Dean just held him tighter, trying to calm him down somewhat. It was heavenly to hold him like this, to smell his lemony soapy scent, to feel the warmth of his body. Dean pillowed his chin on Castiel’s shoulder, concentrating on all the emotions overrunning him. He could have held Castiel like this forever. The younger man noticeably calmed down the longer Dean held him, Dean’s hands gingerly stroking up and down his back. Castiel sighed lengthily. It seemed like a sign of confidence to Dean, when Castiel replied to the hug and became trustfully lax in Dean’s arms. He put his hands on Dean’s shoulder blades, his fingernails digging into the fabric of Dean’s shirt. He was almost clutching Dean, he was holding on so firmly. It made Dean’s head swim, made his heart riot and pump hectically. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment wholeheartedly.

He finally let go reluctantly, wanting to make sure Castiel was better. They exchanged glances, and now the faintest idea of a smile crept on Castiel’s pink mouth. There was a vivid fire in Castiel’s eyes as if some kind of hope had returned to him.

“I’m… I’m going out for a walk, to clear my head, Dean. Thanks again. I was so confused and… it just didn’t occur to me to shut off the phone,” he said with a helpless laugh. Dean contemplated him, feeling nothing but affection for Castiel. He was so pure, so innocently sweet.

“Anytime, buddy. Listen, Cas, Aaron has done enough harm to you. Don’t allow him to destroy you completely.”

This comment seemed to hit Castiel hard. He frowned as a single tear escaped his eye, and he wiped it away abashedly. Then he stared down to the floor, his shoulders hanging down.

“You’re right, Dean.”

Dean regarded Castiel pensively. Then his stomach grumbled hungrily, reminding him of his task of preparing lunch. He patted Castiel’s shoulder amicably and their eyes met.

“Hey, if you’re going out for a walk, make sure you’re back in half an hour or so. I’m making burgers,” he said, changing the topic with enthusiasm written all over his face.

Castiel smirked at him then, a happy gleam in his eyes, and nodded. Dean gazed after him when Castiel left the room. He hadn’t made up his mind yet, whether he was supposed to be reassured about Castiel’s wellbeing now, or if this was just the beginning of a long downward spiral.

…

They had lunch together and sat around the kitchen table comfortably; Dean received a lot of praises from Bobby and Castiel for his meal. The radio was playing quietly in the background as they feasted on their French fries and burgers, munching with gusto. Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cas, watching him silently. After his short stroll all by himself, he seemed calmer now, more composed. But he was awfully taciturn today. Bobby noticed it too and gave Castiel a scrutinizing stern look.

“What’s the matter, Cas? Cat got your tongue?”

While chewing, Castiel glanced at them both sullenly, obviously really in a bad mood. Dean thought his grouchy face looked kind of adorable, and he suppressed a smirk.

“I’m mentally preparing myself to go back to work tomorrow. I can’t really call in sick any longer, I have to return soon and get a hold of myself,” Castiel declared, though not too happily. Bobby harrumphed and nodded grimly. Dean gave voice to the thoughts he had had earlier today.

“Won’t you have to endure a lot of awkward conversations about what happened to your face and why you were gone for a week?”

Castiel sighed.

“Yes, probably. I fear there will also be plenty of rumors and spiteful remarks behind my back, but it can’t be helped. I already made up an official cover story, that someone robbed me and beat me up. It’s better like that, probably. I really don’t wanna discuss my whole ugly private life with everyone at work…”

“Yeah, I get that… but listen, Cas, if it gets too bad, just gimme a call and I’ll pick you up, okay?” Dean offered, his voice gentle and caring. For the first time today, Castiel beheld him for a lengthy moment with unmasked fondness, a little smile coming to life on his mouth. Dean felt how it revived him, how it made his heart widen with unbridled joy. Warmth was filling him from head to toe, rose to his cheeks.

“Thank you, Dean.”

…

On the next morning, Dean just got up in time to see Castiel leaving Bobby’s house and walking along the property in the early gray morning light. Dean wasn’t fully awake yet, so he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, yawning heartily as he stood by the window. Cas, that damn son of a bitch – Dean could have given him a lift to his workplace easily. But he probably hadn’t wanted to ask Dean, or he had wanted to go to work all by himself and not ask for Dean’s help… Dean sighed as he watched him leave, how his figure became smaller and smaller and finally disappeared behind the shrubberies bordering the country road. He hoped Castiel would be okay, that he would get through this day without a lot of trouble…

When Castiel returned around five, Dean was just standing in the kitchen, intent on cooking a late lunch or an early dinner for them. Dean turned around to greet Cas, scanning his face attentively. The other man smiled wearily while slipping out of his suit jacket, his eyes meeting Dean’s with a meaningful long look. Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“So? How was your day?” he asked, smirking at Castiel rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically.

“As expected. Stupid questions, stupid looks, snide remarks whispered on the quiet… But overall, not too bad. I had _ten_ conciliation hearings today, so I’m pretty knackered.”

Dean whistled appreciatively. Being a judge sounded like a lot of work and having to deal with a lot of public business. Castiel just sat down at the kitchen table, but Dean had different plans.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you help me prepare dinner? It will surely keep you from falling asleep. Also, I haven’t figured out yet what to cook judging by our supplies, so maybe you have an idea?” he said with a kind smile. Castiel groaned and rolled his eyes exasperatedly at that, but Dean saw the amused grin on his mouth and the buoyancy in his eyes. Cas regarded him with a smirk.

“You really are the worst, Winchester. Can’t you stand seeing me sitting here in peace for five minutes?”

Dean shook his head slowly, putting on a faux-sad grimace.

“Nope, can’t do that. Now move your lame ass over here and help me.”

Castiel winked at him and got up slowly, shuffling along to Dean standing at the kitchen counter. He opened a few kitchen cabinets and estimated their supplies, considering Dean with poignant chastising looks. Then he took out everything they needed for the dinner Castiel had on his mind. Soon they were chopping onions, potatoes, courgettes, and other veggies, standing side by side in amicable silence. Dean dared to look at Castiel secretly while they prepared the food – with pleasure, he detected a fond, lasting smile on Castiel’s mouth, the bright heartfelt gleam in his beautiful blue eyes. He couldn’t put into words what was going through his head at this moment, but he deeply enjoyed spending his time with Castiel like that, easily finding ease and comfort in his company. It seemed to Dean that Castiel was cherishing moments like these with Dean just as well… Castiel finally noticed Dean’s eyes resting on him and contemplated him.

“You know, all day long I was looking forward to the end of my workday and coming back here. I don’t think I would have stood a chance if I still lived with Aaron… it’s good for me to be here, Dean, and to spend some time with you… Although you really have a poor imagination when it comes to cooking meals,” Castiel said with a special emphasis as he cut a sweet potato into small squares. He tilted his head and concentrated on the knife in his hand, but he was grinning. Dean couldn’t believe his cheekiness. He laughed and nudged Castiel’s shoulder playfully, making Castiel chuckle. Cas’ confession hung heavily in the air, occupied Dean for a good while. Even though Castiel had changed the subject very quickly, he had openly told Dean that he liked spending time with him – Dean couldn’t help but discern a fine nuance of gratefulness in Castiel’s voice; it made Dean all fidgety inside, stupidly happy. Did Castiel know that he was doing the same to Dean? That it felt so good to be with Cas, too?

…

After dinner, Castiel announced he was going out for a walk, and this seemed to become a habit with him. Dean offered to join him, but Castiel declined politely but decisively, saying he rather wanted to be alone. With a heavy heart, Dean watched him putting on his beige trenchcoat and his shoes, while Dean and Bobby still sat at the kitchen table and drank a beer. They were going to play poker tonight, and Dean was looking forward to it. Bobby was a good sport and playing cards with him was always fun. But when Dean’s eyes rested on Castiel’s concentrated features as he laced up his shoes, Dean couldn’t help but feel down somewhat. He felt so far away from Castiel, that the other man was so detached from him and getting farther and farther away – and Dean wanted to be close to him, he longed to know what was going on inside of Castiel’s head…

Castiel said goodbye to them with a glum expression lingering on his face, looking nothing but lost and confused, as if he had to untangle a lot of knots in his head. Dean watched him walk out of the door, and he felt like lately, this was all he could do – stand aside and watch Castiel brood and fall deeper into his personal abyss.

Bobby must have read Dean’s body language, for the old man grasped easily what was burdening Dean so badly.

“Give him some space… It will be alright,” he comforted him kindly. Dean looked up into Bobby’s face, studying the gentle light dancing in the old man’s eyes, the wisdom of age dwelling in them. Dean sighed heavily, feeling stupid and awkward about himself. He shrugged.

“I’m just worried, Bobby. Haven’t you noticed how close-lipped he has become? And how often he shuts himself away?”

Bobby shuffled the cards with a concentrated frown several times, then he dealt them out expertly.

“He’s a grown man, son. Let him be... I’m sure he just needs some time to himself, and when he is ready, he will come to us. He knows we’re here for him when he needs us, I think we made that pretty clear.”

“I know, I know…” Dean muttered, taking a sip from his beer. He needed to calm down or he would go crazy.

“Now quit your whining and lay it on the line,” Bobby said with a challenging glare, making Dean grin.

…

Castiel went to work the following day as well, sticking to the routine he had maintained for so many years. This time, Dean had been wiser - he had set an early alarm the night before so that he wouldn’t miss Castiel again. He might have had all the time in the world to sleep in every day due to his little vacation, but he rather wanted to begin the day with all of them at the breakfast table. So he got up early this Wednesday morning, even before Castiel, and prepared a pompous breakfast for them all, the table nearly crumbling under the weight of it. Soon a taciturn Cas joined him, followed by a grumpy morning crouch called Bobby. There were some astonished looks and surprise written all over their faces as Bobby and Cas studied the breakfast Dean had prepared at this early hour. They all sat down and enjoyed their meal, feasting on scrambled eggs with bacon, hearty muffins and fruits, along with strong, steaming hot coffee. 

Dean watched Castiel over the rim of his coffee cup, thoroughly enjoying the small smile lingering on Cas’ mouth. It did him good to see him like this. He didn’t mind the early hour - it was worth getting up for no other reason than to see the mellow sunlight ensconce itself on Castiel’s dark hair, how luminous his blue eyes were… and the fond expression they contained whenever Castiel regarded Dean contemplatively.

“You really didn’t have to trouble yourself making breakfast, Dean. You both should have slept in,” Castiel scolded him when their eyes met again – but the lingering smile on his mouth revealed how touched he was by Dean’s little gesture. Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Nonsense. Can’t let you go to work on an empty stomach, right?”

Dean held Castiel’s thoughtful look, feeling how these beautiful eyes stirred up something deep inside of him… something untamed, something he had hidden for a long, long time. It was as if Castiel was seeing right through all his physical shields, as if he could clearly see what Dean was truly made of. Dean’s heart started pounding in his chest, he could hear its pulse loud and clear in his ears. A shadow crawled over Castiel’s features then, and he suddenly seemed very shy, strangely affected by Dean only looking at him. Dean thought he detected a subtle faint blush spreading on Castiel’s face, and then Castiel looked down abashedly, smiling to himself. With delight, Dean thought he might as well have touched a sensitive part of Castiel’s soul, something that was akin to the wild, intense feelings rushing through Dean...

After breakfast, Dean offered to give Castiel a ride to court, but Castiel declined politely – he rather wanted to take the bus and cover the rest of the way by foot. Dean marveled at this, for it wasn’t a short way into town; he assumed it was direly needed time for Castiel to be alone and recharge his batteries before he had to deal with another long workday.

They spent the evening cooking dinner again, by now making an astonishingly well-attuned team as they shared the work of preparing the food. Bobby didn’t complain about being pampered like this – breakfast _and_ dinner cooked for him this day - he just sat at the dinner table and read the papers, interrupted by a phone call from Rufus, and then he was chit-chatting about grumpy old men business with Rufus.

As they all sat down together at the table to eat and talk again, Dean couldn’t help but feel awfully _happy_. It was a mixture of coziness, belonging, familiarity, which he hadn’t experienced for such a long time. Wistfully he sometimes thought about that dreaded future day when he had to return to his ordinary life again. When all of this would end again. He was kind of looking forward to getting back to work and seeing all his colleagues and especially his work buddy Benny again… but he had no desire returning to his empty two-room apartment, where there was no one but himself to keep him company.

This Wednesday night, Castiel went out for a walk again, again all by himself. The following Thursday was much alike the former day – but Castiel surprised Dean and Bobby, for _he_ had gotten up before them and had made breakfast for a change. Dean was laughing when he walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep, only to find Castiel grinning at him behind a well-laden breakfast table.

However, the evening of Thursday was insofar different from Wednesday, that after dinner, Cas asked Dean and Bobby if they wanted to join him going out for a walk. Bobby just sat in his comfortable wingback chair, and one of his favorite detective shows was on. He gave Cas a long, meaningful look, annoyance clearly showing on his face. Dean chuckled and walked up to Castiel, waving his hand at Bobby’s behavior.

“Forget Bobby, Cas. Nothing will stop him from watching his shows. Grumpy old man,” he explained and walked over to the coatrack. He grabbed his blue denim shirt, put in on, and corded up his boots. Castiel just donned a black and white plaid shirt against the evening’s crispness. They waved goodbye to Bobby, who was already invested in his TV show again, then they exited the house together.

When they stepped outside, the sun was lowering on the sky, giving off rich orange rays of light. The sky was a pale blue. The warmth of the day lingered in the air as the sunlight was slowly but surely losing strength. The ground was dry and dusty as they walked along Bobby’s property towards the highway; crickets were chirping in the tall grass, interrupted by a lonesome bird squawking here and there. Dean breathed in the spicy clean air with pleasure, wistfully thinking that the air in Saint Louis was always polluted and nothing like that. He gave Castiel a brief side glance, admiring how the mirrored sunlight in his eyes made them gleam and look mystically beautiful. Dean was filled with inexplicable joy, a wild urge for adventure and life, and it had something to do with the fondness in Castiel’s look as his eyes met Dean’s.

“Where do you wanna go? I thought we could walk along the fields parallel to the highway,” Castiel proposed. Dean nodded absentmindedly, watching a car passing them by. They pursued the path next to the highway, and not a single soul was in sight. For a while, they walked in silence, looking around, and studying the environment. The sun was setting in the distance, and the mellow evening light tinged everything in orange, pink, and red. The cornfields were swaying in the soft breeze, which was blowing. The landscape looked peaceful and immaculate. Dean felt as if he and Castiel were walking through a timeless world, a paradisiac place they had accidentally found.

“The countryside is marvelous here. It always fills me with serenity when I take a walk here, and all the chaos inside my head just goes mute,” Castiel said finally. Dean stopped and took a look around, taking in the summery surroundings, the trees softly rocking in the wind, the flowers bending and going to sleep… He smiled melancholy, thinking how ephemeral his time here was.

“Yeah,” he sighed, his eyes glued to the sinking sun, reminding him that everything had its season.

“I already hate that I have to leave again in not even four weeks. I know I will return, and this time for good, but I wish I could stay here forever, that I didn’t even have to leave in the first place,” Dean contemplated aloud. Slowly they started walking again, ruminative and side by side. A million thoughts were flitting through Dean’s head, and he tried to battle the uprising chaos within him while he watched the orderliness and pure beauty of the countryside all around him. His and Castiel’s eyes met as they strolled. A kind smile appeared on Castiel’s mouth as he beheld Dean, and suddenly, there was a sweet notion of profound affection in his look.

“I know what you mean… It feels as if I’m in this tiny bubble of safety with you and Bobby, Dean. I wish I could stay here forever, too,” Cas said quietly, his eyes scanning Dean’s features with interest. Cas sighed. “It all seems a little too good to be true. I know I have to leave soon and be on my own again… that the world beyond Bobby’s house and these fields is anything but placid. However, I know I’m not ready yet, I haven’t recharged my batteries yet…”

Dean thought about Castiel’s words, and he could deeply relate to them – he felt as if he was in a sheltered place as well, far away from the cruel and lonesome world he had gotten used to. When he beheld Castiel for a lengthy moment, he wondered how his life would be in Saint Louis after having met Castiel again… A life without Castiel - the prospect made him a little sad, overwhelmed him somewhat.

They continued their walk for nearly an hour, sometimes in amicable silence, sometimes chatting nonchalantly. The world around them grew darker by the minute, dusk was falling. Velvety blue shadows emerged behind tree trunks, and silvery bright stars appeared on the firmament. Dean was completely excited and soothed at the same time when he and Castiel started returning to Bobby’s house. Castiel’s company was nothing but delightful. It felt easy to talk with him, to spend time with him, and just enjoy each other’s presence. The way Castiel listened to him, how he asked Dean thoughtful and profound questions, it made Dean feel nothing but appreciated, as if Castiel truly cared for him. He could have talked with him forever, savoring every minute of their time together.

They finally arrived at Bobby’s house again and quietly let themselves in. Dean frowned when he heard a snoring sound – he turned around to Cas with a sly grin, then he tiptoed to the living room. Bobby was sitting there in his wingback chair, his head fallen to one side, his mouth slack. He had fallen asleep in front of the TV, snoring like a chainsaw.

…

On the next early Saturday morning, Bobby announced at breakfast that the backyard was a mayhem and needed some serious tending to, whereupon Dean and Castiel in unison volunteered to help Bobby. Soon the three men were outside, under a pale blue sky while the sun still gathered strength. The roof shingles of some sheds needed to be exchanged; also, some of the corrugated iron rooves, where Bobby kept all scrap cars under, had partly come off and had to be fixed again. The garden shed needed a new paint, as the old one was already coming off in flakes. Castiel sighed at the view of the chaotic garden and the deserted veggie beds, where there were more weeds than he could estimate, and lots of bulk garbage, that needed to be driven to the waste-disposal dump. Bobby shrugged his shoulders when he and the two men assessed the mess that they intended to order.

“I didn’t really have the energy to do something. Didn’t even know where to start," Bobby admitted sheepishly.

“Don’t sweat it, Bobby,” Dean perked up, “it will probably be a hell of a long day, but by this evening, I’m sure the place will look awesome. I will take care of the sheds. Where are your tools?”

They set off to work, sharing the tasks at hand – Dean got up on the rooves and replaced the shingles, while Bobby and Cas weeded the garden and collected all the garbage. After two hours, the sun was horridly hot and noon was near. On the rooves, Dean felt the heat on his scalp and his back, the sun roasting him like a chicken in the oven. He was thirsty and his muscles started protesting, but when he took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, he gauged his progress and realized he was nearly done. Bobby loaded the pick-up truck with all the junk at the moment, while Castiel sandpapered the garden shed highly focussed, rubbing off the old paint from the wood. The garden was filled with the chirping of crickets and birds and the rustling of trees in the wind. The men were silently bustling about and working in peace.

Suddenly, Dean heard Castiel’s voice below the shed’s roof he was working on.

“Dean? A little break?”

When Dean stooped over the roof and looked down, Castiel was holding three cool beer bottles in his hands invitingly. He was grinning up at Dean, mirth flickering in his eyes. Dean groaned appreciatively and climbed down the shed easily.

“Ah, you’re heaven-sent,” he said when he accepted the bottle. Castiel just answered with a wink and walked away to Bobby to give him the other bottle, too. Dean sat down in the cool shade of the shed and greedily took a few long swallows of the beer, feeling it revive him. He only noticed now that he was a little dizzy and sweat-through, that he maybe had spent more time in the sun’s heat than was advisable. He leaned his head against the shed and closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and enjoying the moment of rest. It was a surprise to him when he heard shoes shuffling towards him; when he opened his eyes again, Castiel was sitting down beside him in the shade, giving him a kind smile. They drank their beers in amicable silence, looking around the tidied-up garden, which really looked a whole world different once smartened.

The sun was still shining as if it might never rain again, and in the shadows, the temperature was pleasantly warm. The world appeared docile and tranquil. Boughs were swaying in the wind, and the blossoms of wildflowers displayed their rich colors everywhere. Dean appreciated the peacefulness all around them and to sit here and do nothing but drink a beer with Cas. When he studied the other guy, he realized Castiel was smiling blissfully as he was watching something in their vicinity. Dean’s eyes followed his look and then he discovered the beehive in the branches of one of the trees, too. Busily the bees were flying in and out of the beehive, carrying the pollen they had collected. Dean hadn’t paid attention to it before, but now he could hear the constant susurration of little wings and the buzzing of the bee colony.

“Luckily bees and not wasps,” Dean commented, increasing Castiel’s smile.

“I like bees, always liked them,” Castiel gently said. Dean beheld him, marveled at the vivid glimmer in Castiel’s deep blue eyes, how beautiful he looked when he got enthusiastic about something. “Even if it might appear like nothing but chaos to the human eye, all these little insects work together and in total orderliness. Every one of them has their place and knows their role. It’s beautiful… to me, it’s just another manifestation of God’s work, an example, which can be applied to humanity as well. There’s a bigger picture here, even if we can’t always see it.”

Dean smiled to himself, listening to Castiel’s serious and deep voice with pleasure. He loved the way Castiel was thinking, because he found joy and beauty even in the smallest things.

“So, you think we all have a role, huh? What is your role, then, Cas?” Dean asked in jest. But Castiel just smiled at him disarmingly, in such a charming way, that it took Dean’s breath away. Castiel leaned in a little as if he was going to whisper into Dean’s ear or tell him a secret. His sudden closeness made Dean wince nervously and all at once, a very different kind of heat than the summer’s heat spread in his abdomen, made him tingly. He breathed in Castiel’s lemony soapy scent with zest, felt how it made his heart triple its pulse as it expanded in his lungs.

“I’m still trying to solve this riddle, Dean. I don’t have all the answers to life… do you?” Castiel replied good-humored.

Blindly, Dean reached for Castiel’s free hand laying next to his, and he held it in his, sensed the warmth and strength of Castiel’s fingers intertwining with his. He searched for Castiel’s eyes, holding his look deliberately for a moment. With delight he watched a fair blush appearing on Castiel’s cheek, how flustered and aroused he suddenly seemed as they looked at one another.

“I don’t know,” Dean mumbled, “maybe we can find some of these answers together.” He knew he was risking another rebuff, but he just couldn’t help it. Dean’s eyes scanned Castiel’s whole face, and he quickly lost all rhyme and reason once he focussed on Castiel’s lush pink lips, just screaming at Dean to mingle with his. A ravenous appetite filled his heart, and at this moment, he longed to kiss Castiel so badly, it was hard to think of anything else. Castiel’s thumb brushed over the back of Dean’s hand then, reassuringly, tenderly. The little touch electrified Dean from head to toe. He was thrilled when Castiel scooted over into his personal space, holding Dean’s look challengingly. A spark of mischief emerged in Castiel’s blue eyes when he regarded Dean, and suddenly, Dean wasn’t so sure anymore who was doing the flirting here.

“Yeah, maybe,” Castiel thought aloud, half-absentmindedly. Dean counted backward from ten within his head, pretty certain that he would kiss Castiel when he had counted down to one. He couldn’t withstand this sweet seduction, this temptation right in front of him, for very much longer. Did Castiel know what he was doing to Dean? How gorgeous he was, how attractive?

“Oi! Are you two even working any longer or am I making a fool of myself here?” Bobby hallooed at once. Unfortunately, thus ended Dean’s little dream world, and the bubble Castiel and he had sat in burst violently. He and Cas gave a wince when they heard Bobby, both of them startled. How had they forgotten that they weren’t alone? Damn it. Castiel looked at Dean and chuckled, and soon, Dean was laughing too, feeling anything but awkward, but still excited, regardless of Bobby reminding them that they still had some work to do.

…

After the arid and hot day yesterday, this Sunday was anything but summery. Ever since the break of dawn it was raining cats and dogs as if the world was ending. The sky was a nightmare of dark clouds not even the sun could struggle through. Dean had always been sensitive to changes in the weather – today, he was feeling it to the bone. All morning long, he had a queasy feeling in his stomach, he had barely managed to eat something. Also, he was getting a real fierce headache. It was gaining strength by the minute, traveling up from his neck to his temples, and spreading all over his scalp. It felt like a jackhammer was having a party in his brain. As a kid, Dean had often suffered from migraine attacks – he still remembered the vicious pain, which had forced him to sleep all day in the dark. Luckily, as an adult, the migraine had suddenly disappeared. But the headaches with every severe weather change had never really gone away…

Dean had excused himself after breakfast to lie down in his bed again. He couldn’t really do anything with these damn headaches anyway, when he felt like he wanted to blow his brains out all the time. Because the apocalyptic weather outside really didn’t leave a lot of room for lengthy strolls, Bobby had announced he would drive Castiel to church and even accompany him, which had put a mirthful and pleased smile on Cas’ mouth. Dean hadn’t really wanted to go to church again anyway, feeling that it wasn’t really working for him. He heard Bobby shout goodbye to him through the house, then he and Castiel left and closed the front door with a bang.

The silence in the house was deafening, nearly palpable. Dean watched the raindrops trickle down the window slowly, the world around him nothing but gray and the light faint. He closed his eyes and listened to the rain constantly falling outside, a soothing susurration. The wind was blowing and toying with the shrubberies and trees’ canopies. Despite the pain and the constant awful hot throb in his temples, Dean slowly but surely drifted off to a light sleep…

When he came to again, the gray daylight was stronger, nearly whitish – to his sleep-adjusted eyes, it was terribly bright, blinding him. The rain had turned into a drizzle, and the clouds looked less threatening, as a strong wind blew them away. He heard movement downstairs, Castiel and Bobby rummaging through the house and talking quietly with each other. Bleary-eyed, Dean produced his cell phone from under his pillow and checked the time. With an eyebrow raised, he realized he had slept for over two hours. The pain had diminished somewhat, was more tolerable now. But his shoulders were stiff and aching, and his head felt as heavy as lead. Dean felt maltreated, as if someone had punched him again and again in his sleep. Also, he was a little light-headed and nauseous, his blood sugar being at rock bottom.

He was just battling with himself, knowing he would have to get up to fetch himself something to eat and drink to feel better, but not feeling good enough yet to force his body to move – then suddenly, there was a timid knock on his door, and the door opened with caution. Castiel was standing there with a meek smile and a serving tray in his hands. He beheld Dean with fondness in his look, obviously worried about him. Carefully he walked inside and put the tray down on Dean’s nightstand, then he sat down beside him on the bed. Dean studied Castiel’s face attentively, how his eyes were traveling all over Dean’s features, studying him with care and concern in his glance.

“I brought you a little something to eat and drink… How are you feeling, Dean?” Castiel asked quietly, honest interest seeping through. Dean sat up a little and estimated the stuff Castiel had brought him – two sandwiches, an apple, a glass of water, and a little bottle of grape juice. It made Dean smile, not only the consideration of Castiel’s action, but also that he had brought him grape juice, for it was known to help against bad migraine attacks. Had Castiel known that?

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean said, and his voice sounded just as bad as he was still feeling, all rough and husky. He picked up the glass of water and greedily swallowed it all with long gulps, sensing how it revived him and made the pain more bearable. Then he put the glass on the nightstand again and sighed long and heavily, closing his eyes momentarily as he listened to his insides.

“I feel like a truck ran over me, to be honest. My neck is all cramped, my head feels like it’s about to explode… just groggy. I won’t be of any use today; I think I just might sleep a lot. Tomorrow it should be okay again.”

Castiel regarded him with a sad smile, then he pouted thoughtfully at Dean in compassion. Dean took one of the sandwiches, a PBJ, he noted with pleasure, and took a few hesitant gulps, not sure he could stomach food today. It immediately made the nausea disappear, and he felt somewhat strengthened. While chewing highly concentrated, wondering about his protesting body and his well-being, Dean suddenly noticed Castiel scooting over. The other man was searching for his eyes, and when their glances met, a cautious smile crept to Castiel’s mouth. He beheld Dean contemplatively.

“You know… why don’t you lemme help you ease the pain,” he muttered. Then Dean watched in awe how Castiel raised both his hands to his face. He completely forgot the sandwich in his hands and merely managed to gulp down the bite in his mouth. Dean twitched a little when Castiel’s fingertips came down on both his temples. He felt the warm dry skin of his fingers, pleasantly warm against his sickly cold skin. Astonished, he regarded Castiel, his eyes clinging to the other man, who was just smiling soothingly. What in the world was he doing?

“Don’t be coy, Dean,” he said with a wink and grinned, “I just wanna relieve the tension.”

And with that, he started exerting fine pressure, rotating his fingertips with expert movements over Dean’s temples. For a second, Dean was kind of paralyzed, feeling awkward and terribly exposed to Castiel. He watched the other man, sitting so close beside him, their chests almost brushing… his eyes wandered all over Castiel’s features so near to his, and he detected a calm smile on his lips now, sweet gentleness in his wonderful blue eyes. A shiver ran down Dean’s spine, tickled him with electric heat. He sighed as he focussed on Castiel’s fingers, wielding nothing but magic here… The pain lessened. Dean sensed how his cramped muscles loosened, how the tensions slowly unraveled. He closed his eyes, incapable of withstanding Castiel’s penetrating look for too long, feeling as if he was looking right into his soul. He listened to Castiel’s even breathing, mingling with his own heartbeat, and woozily he thought it created a wonderful calming melody. He heard Castiel’s smile without seeing it.

“I know a few good tricks against bad headaches… I used to have a lot of stress headaches, especially when I had to read countless pages of replies for hearings. As a judge, you have to read copious amounts of legal papers,” Castiel explained quietly.

“Yeah, whatever you’re doing, buddy, you’re good at it. I feel a lot better already,” Dean mumbled. He thoroughly enjoyed Castiel’s ministrations, felt nothing but pleasantly relaxed – the pain was merely a memory in the back of his mind, just barely showing. Then Castiel’s fingers traveled into his short hair like a fine caress, nearly combed through his hair gently and went down to Dean’s shoulders. Castiel’s touches were like a cool breeze to Dean, ruffling him up and making him become wide awake. He opened his eyes with a frown when Castiel’s hands started massaging his shoulders with a strong grip. Damn, this felt so good… Incredible heat pooled in Dean’s stomach, and his mouth had gone dry. Castiel looked unhappy and determined as his fingers kneaded Dean’s shoulder and nape with expertise.

“You are really tightly wound,” Cas commented. Dean let his head fall down with a soft sigh, utterly savoring Cas’ little massage as his hands kept working on him. He really knew what he was doing. And there was a strength inherent in his fingers that made Dean completely speechless with arousal. Dean bit on his bottom lip, fighting against the uprising want and longing within him. Did Castiel know what he was doing to him? How good his touches felt? Dean realized then how touch-deprived he was, what a long time had passed since he had been touched like this – with caution, kindness… Dean dared to lift his eyes to Castiel’s, finding with shock and excitement at the same time, that Castiel was watching him, too. A knowing expression dwelt in those damn blue eyes, piercing through the protective shields Dean had erected easily. A suave smile graced Castiel’s mouth. He looked kind and meek, but Dean detected how dilated his pupils had become, how erratic and short-lived his breaths had become. That he was keeping up a façade of nonchalance, which was about to crumble any second now. Castiel’s eyes wandered hungrily over Dean’s face, got stuck on his mouth. Dean watched him biting down on his bottom lip as if he was fighting against the temptation to kiss Dean. It was the hottest thing ever. Dean gulped thickly. What were they even doing?

He realized then how close he and Castiel were sitting together. His hands on his shoulders. Their breaths colliding. Dean’s couldn’t help studying Castiel’s lush pink lips calling out for him, nor the challenging gleam in his eyes luring him to come closer, to just let it happen… he became light-headed, his pulse tripling its pace, his heart pounding against his ribs hectically. He was craving for Cas, wanted him so badly it nearly hurt. How had he fallen for someone so quickly, so completely, within the span of two weeks?

Suddenly, a wave of uncertainty washed over Dean. The formerly so pleasant heat turned into something ugly, into choking, relentless fear. He heard the awful voices in his head, chiding him, whispering of anguish and loss. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t…

For a moment, Dean was just sitting there, staring into nothing, as the fear overtook him, brutally stamping down all the good sensations he had just felt. They all vanished into thin air. Castiel’s hands on his shoulders stopped moving, Cas just let them rest there. Dean felt their weight, somehow making him come down to earth again. Castiel was searching for his eyes, making him look at him as he tilted his head.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Castiel cooed, concern clearly showing in his eyes. Dean shook his head, getting rid of the demons trying to capture him. He was safe. This was okay. He wasn’t in danger of getting hurt again. Or was he? Gently, he placed a hand on one of Cas’ still resting on his shoulder. He squeezed it appreciatively and gave Castiel a heartfelt smile.

“Nothing. I was just lost in thought there for a moment. Thanks, buddy, I feel a whole lot better now,” he said. Then he rubbed his eyes and futilely fought against a big yawn escaping him. He smiled tiredly at Castiel. He felt completely exhausted by the emotional turmoil in his head he had just experienced. With a sigh, he let himself fall back into bed and beheld Castiel for a moment, wondering if Castiel felt the same way about him.

“I think I need a little shut-eye, Cas,” Dean declared, whereupon Castiel got up and walked to the door. He looked somewhat confused and ruminative, but when he turned around at the door, he beheld Dean with nothing but affection in his eyes. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment and regarded Dean. His piercing knowing eyes met Dean’s, and again, Dean thought they were seeing right through him, that Castiel was understanding his reasons and motives without a word being said. It made him blush and scratch his head abashedly. He felt kind of naked when Castiel looked at him like that, with nothing but worship and understanding in his eyes.

“Just tell me when you need anything, Dean. I’m just a call away,” he said quietly. Then he left the room and shut the door behind him. Dean stared at the door for a good while, wondering if Castiel had put a double meaning into his last words deliberately. Then Dean leaned back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. His heart was racing in his chest, and he couldn’t come down. He kept feeling Castiel’s hands on his body, still sensed the aura of his presence here in this room. Dean fought a battle against himself, the recurring question arising in his head again and again: Was he ready to take that step again? If Castiel truly offered him what Dean thought he was implying – was he ready again?

TO BE CONTINUED


	7. A long overdue goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I really like the next chapter... I will list the songs mentioned in this chapter at the end of it. Btw, when the whole story is published I will put a link in this story (probably in chapter 1) with the Youtube playlist with all the songs appearing in this story. Also, I just wanna mention, when I think of Aaron in this story, I always have SPN's Bartholomew in mind... Have fun reading, and if you do, feel free to comment :)

**Chapter 7 – A long overdue goodbye**

It was a late Monday evening at the third week of Castiel’s stay at Bobby’s, and all three men were chilling in Bobby’s living room. Dean lay on the comfortable old couch, his legs stretched, his bare feet put up. He was wearing one of his favorite jeans, even though it was a little loose and worn out by now; and along with it, he was wearing a soft gray cotton Henley shirt, the first buttons undone, as if this would help against the constant summer heat. In his hands, he held the short novel „Animal Farm” by George Owell, a classic he read every once in a while. When he had packed his bags for his stay at Bobby’s, he had only brought a few books he knew he had the time and zest to read, and this was one of them. This book often reminded him of the cruelties men did to each other, how easily men of power could corrupt less clever creatures for their purposes, uncaring what was happening to them… In his line of work, he had seen the nastiest things, and this book just confirmed the reality Dean experienced day in, day out. He stared at the pages, his eyes seeing but not really reading the words anymore, as his thoughts started to carry him away. The difference between this book and his work life was that he could close the book once he was finished with it – that it was just a work of fiction – he couldn’t do that with his job. There would always be crimes, always be people to save and protect.

He sighed and put the book down in his lap, rubbing his burning eyes. He was dead tired. His cozy clothes, paired with the warmth of the evening, made him even more tired, and his bones longed for a soft mattress. When he yawned heartily, he heard Bobby laugh gloatingly.

„You’re getting old, Dean,” the old man said, „it’s not even ten and you’re already falling asleep. There used to be a time when you just got ready for a night out at this hour.”

Dean looked over to Bobby and Cas, who were sitting at the kitchen table, playing a game of chess, accompanied by a few bottles of beer. Castiel was frowning as he contemplated the chessboard, gauging his next move. His cheeks were somewhat reddened, either by the heat or the wine, and his dark hair was ruffled. He had been cleverer than Dean, because Castiel had donned his sleeping clothes already –dark blue long pajama pants and a white shirt, clinging to his torso perfectly, making him look unfairly ridiculously handsome.

„Yeah, you’re probably right,” Dean just commented and closed his eyes, lying back on the sofa. He didn’t even care anymore if he was in a bed or not, he could fall asleep right here and then. Maybe he was really getting old, he thought with a sly smirk.

„Hey, you’re not falling asleep here, are you?” Bobby asked, annoying Dean by preventing him from drifting off.

„Hmm,” Dean just grumbled stupidly, feeling the wonderful softness of the couch underneath his back. He heard the movement of a chess figure on the board.

„Check!” Castiel’s dark voice resounded triumphantly. Dean grinned a little to himself. This was the third time this was happening tonight, and Bobby had always boasted with his chess skills ever Dean could remember. Dean had lost count how often Bobby had defeated either him or Sam during the years. It was nice to see the tables turn for once.

„Damn it, boy! You’re really good at this,“ Bobby said stunned.

„It’s just anticipatory thinking combined with logic,“ Castiel mumbled as if it was no big deal. Bobby took a few moments, then he made his next move; Dean could hear the figures being moved on the board as he was half dozing off, wondering who would win.

„Checkmate!” Castiel declared finally, and even though Dean didn’t see his face, he knew Castiel was smiling, from the way he was breathing through his nose. Bobby laughed a little and sighed in defeat.

„All right, I give up for tonight,“ Bobby said.

„Maybe you’re getting old as well?” Dean chimed in with a broad grin on his mouth, opening one eye when he heard Castiel laugh upon this. Bobby was glaring at him, but couldn’t hide his smile completely. Dean absorbed how gorgeous Castiel appeared when he laughed blithely, when little crow’s feet surrounded his brightly glowing eyes. Dean felt something shift in his heart, and his throat constricted with joy. He suddenly realized how homely it felt to be here with Bobby and Castiel, how familiar and right it all felt, and for a second, he wished he could always be here in their company.

Castiel sobered down a little, but when he regarded Dean openly, there still was a smile on his mouth, and the expression in his eyes was nothing but tender when their eyes met. He blinked a few times, their eyes locked, and Dean felt an electric warmth gripping him tightly, suffusing him from head to toe, tickling his nerve ends. Ultimately, Dean closed his eyes again, incapable of withstanding Castiel’s intense regard for too long. He was fighting against his tiredness, willing himself to get up at last and make himself ready for the night. However, in his mind’s eye, he still saw Castiel’s burning eyes, their intent look, that got right under his skin and mesmerized him so…

„Listen, Bobby, I was thinking… do you have some kind of storage space for me?” Castiel asked. Dean was only half-heartedly listening, as he was busy keeping himself awake and losing slowly but surely against his body’s needs.

„I started looking for an apartment of my own this week, and I found a few nice ones, where I can move in quickly. Even though I haven’t signed any lease contract yet, I wanna get my stuff out of Aaron’s house asap. So… I was thinking of getting my things in the coming days, maybe tomorrow even. And if I could store them temporarily somewhere here, that would be a huge relief.”

„Sure. I have enough space. I have a little storehouse in the yard where we can put your stuff in. Oh, and I also have an old van, that’s big enough for furniture or whatever, you can borrow it. I’m sure Dean will help you with getting and carrying all those things.”

Dean opened his eyes then, deciding this conversation was more important than sleep.

„Yeah, of course, I’ll help,” he confirmed, sitting up to tell his body that it wasn’t allowed to fall asleep right now. Castiel looked back and forth between Bobby and Dean, a haunted expression dwelling in his eyes. He seemed intimidated, even shy, for whatever reason, and he was kneading his hands together nervously. He looked down and contemplated them, biting on his lower lip as if he was battling with himself.

„Thanks. That’s really kind of you. But I thought of going alone. I think it’s better if I go back to Aaron’s house all by myself,” he said quietly. All at once, Dean was wide awake.

„No way, Cas,“ he blurted out angrily. „Have you forgotten what he did to you the last time you saw him? I’m not letting you go there all alone, buddy, I’m coming with you,” he said decisively, feeling a wave of fierce protectiveness washing over him. All he received then were Castiel’s blue eyes, raised to his, as he was looking up to him from under his lashes, an indecipherable mien and a little smile playing on his kissable mouth. He looked stern, beautiful, and it flabbergasted Dean. He could only stare back, absolutely hypnotized, while his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, admiring this strange being in front of him.

„I can defend myself when push comes to shove, Dean. As I said, it’s really kind of you. But I don’t want to drag you even more into this. Aaron had always had feelings of jealousy. How do you think he will react when I show up with _you_ on his doorstep, getting all of my stuff?”

Dean frowned at that and pouted a little, putting the pieces of the puzzles together in his mind. What did this mean? Did this mean that Castiel thought Dean was competition for Aaron and that Castiel was feeling something for Dean? Or did this mean that Castiel just _assumed_ Aaron would feel jealous about Dean, regardless of what Castiel was or wasn’t feeling for Dean? Dean’s brain was hurting with all the possibilities; it was way too late for him to think clearly.

„I think Dean’s right, Cas. You shouldn’t go alone. This isn’t a cute dramatic break-up situation anymore, boy. We’re talking about life or death here. You have no idea how far Aaron will go in his rage, and even though I know you can defend yourself, I’d feel better if Dean was going with you. You know he’s a cop, he’s got some fighting skills as well. He can even arrest Aaron if he gets violent. And wouldn’t it be better to have a witness when worse comes to worst?” Bobby said, laying a caring hand on Castiel’s shoulder, whereupon Castiel sighed, obviously torn in two.

„All right. If you insist. But I don’t want any more drama. Even if he lashes out, I don’t want you to arrest him, Dean, all right? I just wanna get my things and be done with it,“ Castiel said. When he looked at Dean again, he had a pleading look in his eyes, making Dean’s heart melt right on the spot. He looked so sad and broken, so hapless, Dean just wanted to get up and take him into his arms, promising him everything would be fine again. It wasn’t fair that he had to go through so much shit, that he had to deal with all of this. A major part of Dean wanted to arrest Aaron’s ass and beat the crap out of him for what he had done to Castiel – but then he admired Castiel’s puppy dog eyes and thought about his wish for peace, and he decided what Castiel wanted was more important than taking revenge on Aaron.

„Whatever you want, Cas,“ he said and smiled calmly. His smile made the worry lines on Castiel’s forehead disappear; the apprehension in his eyes vanished slowly, and the smile he bestowed on Dean was sweet and carefree. Castiel nodded appeased.

„Thanks.”

…

In the last weeks, the weather had been more or less warm and dry, just typical summer weather – but on today’s forenoon, as Dean and Castiel made ready to drive to Aaron’s house, the weather had changed, as if it felt the coming change as well. Dark rain clouds hung in the sky. The streets were still wet with rain, which had fallen this bygone night. The air smelt of stony water and fresh grass; all the shrubberies and trees seemed content with the long yearned for rain, and the whole world seemed revived, even if the sun had disappeared for today. Castiel, on the other hand, seemed dead, like a walking zombie, his face pale and his eyes carrying an exhausted look. Dean had decided not to comment on Castiel’s looks today, but he looked the worse for wear as if he hadn’t slept all night. Castiel wore a black long-sleeve shirt and worn-out jeans, completing his slack and fatigued appearance. Even so, he looked somewhat cute, and Dean couldn’t help but smile warmly the longer he laid eyes on him.

Dean had donned one of the old blue overalls he had stored at Bobby’s so that he was appropriately dressed, should Castiel want to get some furniture as well.

Castiel helped Dean putting some furniture pads and boxes into the back of Bobby’s old gray van; Dean risked a side glance at him. He recognized the grim mien of Castiel, how he was gritting his teeth, obviously putting up a brave front. Dean didn’t know what to say, for he had never been in an alike situation. Of course, he had left lovers behind, and he had been broken up with before as well… But going back to the house where your partner had beaten you up brutally, that was a completely different story. He tried to imagine how Castiel was feeling right now, what he was going through.

„Hey, Cas…,” he said softly, and Castiel stopped in his movements and looked up at him. His eyes were big and questioning, filled with a hopelessness Dean longed to eliminate.

„It will be all right,” he said, feeling suddenly foolish. What did he know? How could he say that? He felt like a huge douchebag when he saw Castiel smiling sadly, tears welling in his eyes, as he nodded briskly. Dean’s heart shrunk when he watched Castiel wipe a hand nervously over his eyes. He hadn’t meant to make it worse or even make him cry. Why couldn’t he just shut up?

„Yeah, I know. Thanks… it’s just… it all seems so surreal, you know? Just two weeks ago, I was still together with Aaron, and I thought I could never leave him, that I would never even dare to… and now I’m getting my stuff. I should be relieved, I should be glad that all of this is over, or will be soon. But… I’m just sad how things turned out. I’m angry I let it come to this, that I let Aaron do this to me,” Castiel confessed. His voice became more and more choked up and quieter the longer he spoke. His words contained so much agony, it made Dean commiserate with him, and he couldn’t take it any longer – quickly, he walked up to Castiel and wrapped him up in his arms, pressed him hard against him. Castiel’s body was hard and warm, and his clean, herb-rich, lemony scent filled up Dean’s lungs, made his heart flutter excitedly. But Castiel felt stiff in his arms, paralyzed as if he was frozen with shock; and while Dean held him, his hands pressed on Castiel’s shoulder blades, he felt the strong lean muscles move underneath his fingertips, and he wondered if he had gone too far. If Castiel despised this intimate closeness.

Before he could overthink embracing him, Castiel suddenly melted and leaned all his body weight trustfully into Dean’s. Dean sensed an arm snaking around his middle, the other was draped over his neck, and then Castiel hugged him tighter and tighter, squeezing him with a little force so that Dean’s head was spinning. He closed his eyes, enjoyed the sweet frenzy, which took over him, making him a little lightheaded. Their chests were moving together with every breath, brushing against each other, and it aroused Dean and made him tense up with lust. He withdrew then from Castiel and looked into his face, trying to smile encouragingly at him. Castiel still had his arms around Dean, holding him while he regarded Dean attentively, his eyes scanning Dean’s features with nothing but fascination. It made Dean blush fiercely. He didn’t know what to think of this expression in Castiel’s beautiful blue eyes, but it felt a little overwhelming to be considered with such a fond tenderness… Dean was too afraid to acknowledge what it meant, even though deep inside of him he had already solved the riddle.

„Come, let’s get it over with,” Dean proposed. He grinned at Castiel and wiggled his eyebrows stupidly, loving how it made Castiel laugh a little. The dark-haired man nodded and let go of Dean, sighing extensively when he walked up to the passenger side.

„Yeah, you’re right. If we’re lucky, we won’t even meet Aaron. As I said, he always visits his aunt on Tuesdays, so we might have a few hours of undisturbed peace.” They got into the van and fastened their seat belts. Dean adjusted the driver’s seat and the steering wheel to his body height; then he started the engine and listened to the purr of it, grimacing when he heard the engine cough and felt it rumble sickly.

„Well. Let’s hope this car won’t die on us. Looks like it hasn’t been moved in a while,” he grumbled gloomily. But the car started, and it drove just fine when they left Bobby’s premises. The dusty car radio was tuned to a classic rock station, and the songs played quietly in the background. Both Dean and Castiel were too tense to speak or to make small talk; Castiel gave Dean directions every now and then, but apart from that, they were both lost in their own thoughts and awfully taciturn. Even though the current song on the radio was catchy and a danceable rock piece, the lyrics Dean picked up sounded like a warning to him, like a threat.

_Sunset lights the sky_

_And a shadow will remain_

_Black clouds in the east_

_And there’s twisters underneath…_

They arrived about half an hour later. Dean parked the car in front of an imposing old house, which almost looked like a villa – it must have been a sight to behold in its days, but now it looked a little rundown. The dark wooden façade direly needed tending to, and the formerly perfectly trimmed lawn looked like a clearing with grassed and wildflowers in the middle of a forest. The house itself had two stories with white windows, and the roof was as black as the rest of the house. It might have been a cozy place to live in, but now it just seemed creepy to Dean. The rain clouds behind the house also didn’t help to embellish its appearance. Dean whistled impressed.

„Wow. Looks like the Addams family house,” he deadpanned. Castiel laughed carefree at that and turned to Dean, grinning from ear to ear, which, in turn, made Dean grin as well. Castiel shrugged.

„Well, Aaron inherited it from his family. And he never really found the will or time to work on it. Whatever. Let’s get going before he comes back.”

Dean sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt, while Castiel did the same. They got out of the car and walked up the lawn. Dean couldn’t help but detect the haunted look in Castiel’s eyes when he examined the building thoughtfully, how tense and anxious he suddenly seemed.

„There aren’t ghosts living in there, right?” he tried to joke to lighten the mood. It only got him a tired smile from Castiel and a look heavy with meaning. He obviously understood what Dean was trying to do, but it didn’t work. Dean harrumphed and scratched his neck, a bit shaken when he watched Castiel unlocking the front door. They let themselves inside – the air was dusty and stale, as if nobody had opened the windows in days. Inside, the house looked even gloomier than one could imagine. It was strangely dark in here. On the walls, there were countless family portraits, surrounded by golden frames, and there were heavy carpets everywhere. The stairs leading to the upper tier were also made of dark wood, as were all floors downstairs. Castiel ascended the stairs, and in doing so, he turned around to Dean, to make sure he was following him. Dean was appalled when he saw the dead look in Castiel’s eyes, how pale he was, as if his stomach was turning. If there were any ghosts in here, they were ghosts of the past, and they were haunting Castiel now. Dean understood they needed to leave the place as soon as possible, for Castiel’s sake. The beams were screeching under their weight, just like in a horror movie, and it made Dean grimace. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised now to find a member of the Addams family coming down the stairs.

When they were upstairs, Castiel led Dean to a big room at the end of the corridor – the bedroom, he had shared with Aaron for all those years of their relationship. A king-size bed stood in the middle of the room, and heavy, long curtains robbed the room’s light away. Castiel drew them and let the perse daylight in. He then took one of the boxes they had brought and walked over to the wardrobe. He pointed at a bookshelf in the other corner of the room.

„Can you please pack all of the books on the right side of the shelf? Oh, and please don’t forget my piano sheets,“ he asked Dean, whereupon Dean nodded and set to work. For the next one and a half hours they were busy packing boxes and bringing them into Bobby’s van on the street outside. Dean didn’t miss the skeptical looks and frowns from the neighbors in the street, who were all suddenly appearing behind their window curtains, or who tried to make small talk on the street with either him or Castiel. They declined any conversation politely but decisively – they really didn’t have time for this.

While Dean packed and carried boxes, he had a lot to digest, a lot to think about. He received insights into Castiel’s being through his belongings easily, and if time wasn’t a pressing matter, he would have loved to study Castiel’s possessions in detail. They were telling him a lot about Castiel. The man didn’t really own a lot, which seemed like a rare but welcome surprise to Dean in this day and age of capitalism. Dean also didn’t have a lot, thinking stuff just started piling up and making places look messy. The major part of Castiel’s belongings were his clothes, his books, and his music sheets. The books he read were a wild mixture of philosophical and religious content, combined with books about law, astrophysics, and gardening. Dean couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around this odd mixture. The piano sheets he briefly saw were mostly musical pieces from classical and well-known composers like Liszt, Chopin, Grieg, Satie, which Dean couldn’t play, of course, but loved listening to anyway. He was already half daydreaming about Castiel playing those compositions to him one day…

They were nearly done, and most of Castiel’s stuff was in Bobby’s van already waiting for them. There was just one more box Castiel was finishing packing in the kitchen downstairs, where his mother’s antique tea set was, when Dean and Castiel heard a key being turned in the front door. Dean stood in the hallway when it happened. He and Castiel immediately looked at each other and froze in their motions. They were both realizing what this meant. Aaron. Damn it. They hadn’t made it before he returned.

Aaron opened the door and his face was full of surprise when he saw a stranger – Dean – in the hallway, looking at him darkly. Dean studied him from head to toe with raised eyebrows, his arms crossed in front of his chest, not hiding what he was thinking about men hitting their partners. Aaron frowned at him. Dean could imagine what he was thinking of him, the way his eyes wandered over Dean’s blue overall doubtfully. Aaron was a little bit taller than Dean. He had a lean physique and bright blond hair, which had hair gel in it, and which he had combed back in a snobbish way. He was wearing a dark blue, expensive-looking pinstriped suit. His teeth were awfully fake-bright, but the confused smile he gave Dean was dishonest and smug. His bright blue eyes carried a cold, deadly gleam within them, appearing dangerous and feral to Dean. Aaron was good-looking, but it was obvious his heart was rotten and loveless, and that made him seem ugly. A shudder ran down Dean’s spine. He didn’t really know Aaron, but he already disliked him.

„What the hell are you doing in my house?” he asked Dean, his voice brighter than Dean would have assumed. Dean decided to play it cool, so he raised a thumb into Castiel’s direction nonchalantly.

„Helping a friend getting his stuff,“ he said calmly, with a nod into the kitchen. Castiel just walked out of the kitchen and stopped next to Dean. He was wide-eyed and his whole behavior wary, even intimidated, it seemed to Dean, when his and Aaron’s eyes met. Immediately, Aaron’s eyes darkened, and his face became a mask of terrible fury. Mesmerized, Dean watched the change coming over the other man. How quickly he turned from a more or less friendly-looking man to a psycho-version of himself.

„I’m getting my things, Aaron. It’s over,“ Castiel declared robotically, his voice a low murmur. He raised his chin proudly and held Aaron’s glare sternly – Dean wondered what was going on inside of him, if he was putting up a brave front for Aaron. Aaron scoffed and pointed at Dean with an accusing forefinger.

„The hell you will. Is that your new boyfriend? _I knew_ you were cheating on me. I always knew it!”

„Hey! Shut your mouth,“ Dean said, not liking the lofty way Aaron was speaking with Castiel. Castiel intervened, raising both hands into the air as if he had given up. He then walked up to Aaron, raised his chin and stared grimly into his face. Dean watched him in awe, how wrathful and simultaneously composed he seemed, like an archangel about to let out all his rage into the world. The next words he said behind gritted teeth, and they were full of venom.

„I’m leaving you because you hit me. And you don’t care about me, Aaron. You just wanna own me. But you don’t. We’re done, Aaron.”

Dean nodded approvingly to himself. Castiel was just about to turn around and walk away from Aaron. But then Aaron grabbed Castiel’s wrist harshly and yanked him around so that Castiel was facing him again. It all happened so quickly. Dean felt as if in slow motion when he set his body to walk to help Cas.

„Hey, I’m not done with you yet!” Aaron bellowed at Castiel. Castiel struggled free and pushed with both hands against Aaron’s chest so that he would give him some space. But this just made Aaron angrier. Out of nowhere, his fist was raised and he hit Castiel’s chin once, with terrible force. And Castiel fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, lying there motionlessly for a second. Dean was seeing red. All he could perceive was Castiel lying on the ground, holding his face, unable to get up. He stomped up to Aaron, about to beat the living hell out of him.

„Dean, stop,” he heard Castiel groan from the ground. He was about to ignore it. But then Castiel’s hand clasped Dean’s clothed ankle cautiously, his fingers digging into the fabric of Dean’s overall. The touch was asking, not holding him back, just asking him to respect Castiel’s wish. And suddenly, all of Dean’s anger vanished. He looked down, capturing Castiel’s eyes looking up into his, and their expression was so pleading, so soulful… it really brought Dean down to his knees, and he sank down next to Castiel. Blindly he reached for his hands and helped him get up carefully, slowly. Castiel’s one side of the face already looked terribly swollen and red. Aaron must have had one hell of a punch. Still, the fire burning in Castiel’s eyes, as he beheld Aaron, was hot and fearless, as their eyes locked and their wills battled with each other.

„When all of this is over, Aaron, I will kick your ass. Come, Dean, we’re leaving.”

Dean had to stifle the laugh, which was coming to life in his throat. Castiel, that damn son of a bitch.

Dean was biting his cheeks and barely hiding a grin when he picked up the last box Castiel had forgotten in the kitchen. Castiel was already out of the door, not even looking back over his shoulder to the place he had called home for years. Aaron was still standing there, glued to the spot, confused and with an open mouth, as if he wasn’t understanding what was happening. Dean passed him by, not even bothering about saying goodbye to him. He couldn’t wait for the day, on which Castiel would take revenge on him and kick his ass, Dean thought, now allowing himself to grin broadly as he stepped outside.

Castiel was already waiting in the van, sitting on the passenger seat, his face an unreadable, stoic mask. Dean stowed the last box in the van’s truck away and turned around when a sudden brightness appeared behind him. He was squinting and intuitively raising a hand to his forehead as he regarded the sky above him, blinded by the bright light.

Finally, the sun was coming out. 

…

Dean started the car, quickly bestowing Castiel with a brooding look. The guy next to him kept looking ahead, was awfully silent. Dean decided he would let him be and not be noisy. He knew when to step back and when someone needed time for themselves. And what was there really to say? He contemplated the bruises appearing on Castiel’s face, which had just healed. A hot wave of anger washed through Dean and he gritted his teeth. Damn Aaron. His knuckles were white when he held the steering wheel, as he drove them back to Bobby’s.

The radio was silently playing songs, but neither he nor Castiel were really paying any attention to it.

„Are you okay, buddy?” Dean finally asked. He had lost the fight within himself, whether he wanted to let Castiel be, or whether he truly wanted to know whether Castiel was alright.

„Yeah,” Castiel just croaked ominously. Then there was silence, again. Dean breathed through deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He couldn’t get Aaron’s spiteful eyes out of his head. His snotty behavior. How he had accused Castiel that he had cheated on him. The audacity… And then the seconds, which had felt like eons, when he had punched Castiel. How Castiel had fallen to the ground, not knowing what was happening to him. Dean couldn’t forget it. He was fuming with rage. But he kept his silence, not wanting to disturb Castiel further. If Dean was already feeling that bad – how the hell was Castiel feeling? Dean couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

His worst premonitions became true when he suddenly saw Castiel raising his hands to his face. He hid his face in the bowl his palms were forming and sighed extensively. The pressure was probably too much. He was already crumbling underneath it. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean realized Castiel was still hiding his face from him, and that he was shaking. It slowly dawned on Dean that Castiel was mutely crying. His heart broke with sadness, with sympathy for the other man. Of course. It must have been a lot for him. By intuition, Dean reached out a hand and placed it gently on Castiel’s thigh. He stroked along his thigh in soothing motions, rubbed senseless patterns into Castiel’s jeans, patted his thigh encouragingly. All the while, he tried to concentrate on driving – but he would have really loved to stop the car right now, get out and pull Castiel into his arms. The poor guy was suffering. And who could blame him? Dean hoped his touches could convey what his mouth couldn’t speak, what he couldn’t find words for. His actions seemed to have the desired effect on Castiel at last, because he took his hands down. Dean risked a side glance while driving. Yeah, he had been crying. There were streaks of tears on his cheeks, and he wiped them away with nervously trembling fingers.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride. But Castiel’s hand found Dean’s, which was still resting on his thigh. And he let it rest on Dean’s quite naturally, and squeezed Dean’s hand once, as if he wanted to thank him for his wordless support. Dean’s throat corded up with a stinging hurt that was close to joy. He was melancholic and sangfroid at the same time – he didn’t even know how it was possible to feel this torn and happy at once.

When they stopped in Bobby’s yard, it was already noon. Dean killed the engine and looked at Castiel, who responded to his intense look for once. Dean saw how tired he was, how utterly exhausted, all his strengths were spent. He really wanted Castiel to get some rest after this horrible meeting with Aaron.

„Go inside and get some ice for your face. I will unload your stuff,” he said. He saw Castiel was about to protest, and he was having none of it.

„Your face will swell if you don’t cool it somewhat. And I don’t think your colleagues will let you get away with a story about being robbed _a second time_. And you don’t have a lot of stuff. I can really do it quickly on my own. Just… let me do this for you, Cas. Go get inside and get some rest. I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, now with a soothing voice and a winning, tender smile – apparently, Castiel couldn’t resist his smile. Dean was suffused with glee when he spotted the littlest smile blooming on Castiel’s lips in return.

„Thank you, Dean,” he said quietly. Then he exited the car and walked up to Bobby’s house, disappearing inside.

…

When Dean was done with unloading the van – which really didn’t pose any difficulty – he walked into Bobby’s house, excluding the warm, stifling air outside. It seemed like a thunderstorm was coming, that cold and hot weather fronts would be clashing soon. When he stepped over the threshold, he heard Bobby and Castiel arguing in the kitchen. He entered the kitchen and immediately caught the exasperation of Castiel’s mien while he was talking to the older man. Bobby stood in front of him, surprised and angry at the same time. He was gauging Castiel’s face, where a dark violet bruise was clearly visible now. Dean could already imagine what their argument was about.

„I just don’t understand why you let him hit you. _Again._ Why didn’t you fight back? I know you can! And that son of a bitch really deserves a beatdown,“ Bobby said angrily, his voice was a little raised. He was obviously upset that Castiel had gotten hurt again, but it didn’t do any good that he was nearly shouting at Castiel due to his worry for him. Castiel’s eyes were gleaming darkly, dangerously. He looked severely annoyed.

„I don’t wanna talk about it.” His voice had a sulking undertone to it, which almost made Dean smile if the situation hadn’t been so glum.

„ _Listen,_ you idjit,” Bobby started, about to start a wrathful rant, but Dean decided it was time to step in before this escalated into a nasty fight.

„Bobby, come on. Leave him alone. It’s been one hell of a day,” he said softly. His calm words immediately had a soothing effect on the two other men. Castiel gave him a meaningful look, which was filled with gratefulness. A tender smile graced his lips when he contemplated Dean for a moment, completely ignoring Bobby and the whole world around them. Finally, Cas threw his hands into the air as if in defeat.

„Guys, why don’t you just take a rest for a little while and stop annoying me. I don’t wanna be rude, but I could use some time alone. Now. Just… let me cook something for us and do some tidying up and cleaning. I really need it for my nerves right now,” he proposed, while he massaged his left temple with one hand as if he was having a headache. His eyes were already roaming over the place, probably estimating all the chaos he intended to sort and clean. Dean bit on his bottom lip, thinking about Castiel’s suggestion and that he would rather see _him_ rest for a while – then he saw Bobby was about to protest again, and he quickly took a step forward and placed a hand on Bobby’s upper arm. He gave him a meaningful look.

„Come, Bobby. Let’s give Cas some space.”

Bobby groaned and rolled his eyes, then he trotted away into the garden, to „look after the cars, you idjits,” as he explained before shutting the door behind him. Dean turned around to Castiel. It tingled hotly in his stomach when their eyes met, and when Castiel regarded him openly, honest affection mirrored in his gentle glance. The atmosphere between them was taut, and they could hear each other’s hectic breathing. Dean felt as if he had gulped bubbles, which were all exploding in his innards now. He couldn’t help but smile stupidly at Castiel. Dean admired his beautiful features – even the bruise couldn’t mar Castiel’s appearance. He thought about his loveable smile and the bright gleam in his eyes whenever he beheld Dean and asked himself what it all meant. If maybe Castiel was feeling what he was feeling…

He felt the heat rising to his cheeks and suddenly, he was terribly flustered. He decided to exit the room before he was making an utter fool of himself.

„I’ll leave you alone,” Dean mumbled.

He patted Castiel’s shoulder amicably, then climbed the stairs to his room, so that he could read a book in peace and give Castiel some time alone.

…

Dean lay on his bed comfortably. Outside, the storm was already arriving and toying with everything it could find – he could hear the wind howling spookily and something clattering mechanically every now and then. When he looked out of the window, he could see dark rain clouds swiftly moving along the sky, as the wind pushed them away. It would probably rain soon. Even though it was only early afternoon, he had to turn on the nightlamp to read, it was so dark. He was currently reading Tolstoy’s famous „War and Peace,” and after the first few hundred pages, he really didn’t understand what all the fuss was about, why the book was so hyped. The man was basically just writing about romances between Russian monarchs in a historic setting…

All the while, he heard Castiel downstairs – at first, he must have tidied up everything; then he had vacuumed the whole place. Then Dean had heard him cooking in the kitchen, chopping veggies for a good while. Now a fantastic rich scent wafted through Bobby’s house, and it made Dean’s stomach grumble with appetite. He was pretty sure Castiel was currently mopping the floors, estimating by the sounds he was causing.

Dean turned another page and cursed Tolstoy with passion, not sure whether he really wanted to continue reading this lengthy, lengthy book. Also, he couldn’t concentrate. His thoughts always fled to Castiel and his situation. What was going on inside of him. Whether he would be fine. If there was anything Dean could do for him…

Castiel’s behavior reminded him of himself in the weeks after his dad had died. He had been the same. Stubborn, unwilling to talk. And he had functioned. Oh, he had functioned perfectly, going through the motions, as if his actions were preventing his impending breakdown. He had also tidied up everything, had done household chores like an imbecile, had worked his ass off – it had kept all thoughts at bay, had pushed all feelings far, far away. And Dean also remembered that this had indeed saved him for a little while. It had given him time to clear his head, had allowed him to continue his life in some kind of normalcy. The breakdown had come at last, nevertheless. And it had been painful and lasted for a long, long time… He worried if Castiel was going to fall apart soon, too. If someday he stopped _functioning,_ if his emotions would overflow and get the better of him…

Dean was startled out of his thoughts when he heard the faintest sound of piano keys downstairs. He listened attentively, nearly stopped breathing. It seemed like Castiel was playing on Bobby’s old piano, the dusty thing, which had belonged to his deceased wife Karen. Slowly but surely Castiel’s fingers were playing melodies with intent, and Dean listened, utterly bewitched and with fascination. Castiel knew what he was doing, that much was certain. His fingers were playing complicated pieces, and their accuracy and speed with remarkable. Dean was surprised that the old piano wasn’t out of tune – maybe Bobby kept it intact and took care of it, to honor Karen’s passion for music…

Dean placed the book aside and lay down on the bed. He closed his eyes and listened to the compositions Castiel was working his way through, how they filled the house with sweet notes… Outside, it started raining, and the rain seemed to accompany Castiel’s music perfectly. A sensation of complete calm grew in Dean, he felt all at ease, while he cherished Castiel’s talent. He could have listened to him forever. After a few songs, Dean got curious, though, and he wanted to see what Castiel looked like when he played, whether his mien was as concentrated as Dean imagined. He longed to witness Castiel’s fingers flying over the ebony and white keys. He got up and left his room, descended the stairs quietly to the living room neighboring the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something was baking in the oven, looking a lot like a version of Shepherd’s pie. He tiptoed to the living room carefully, not wanting to disturb Castiel in his play. The man was sitting in front of the piano, his head a little bowed in concentration, his posture stiff and straight. His eyes quickly fled to Dean’s, acknowledging he was there with a brief nod, then he continued playing.

He was just starting an intricate piece, which Dean knew, because he had heard it in several movies before, and it was well known to him – the „Masquerade Waltz” by Aram Khachaturian. Dean had always loved this dramatic composition, but he had never heard it played on the piano before. He stood in the doorway while he watched Castiel’s fingers creating magic, getting every note right with a certainty that baffled Dean. He was absolutely smitten, loved the way the song sounded on piano. However, he was somewhat taken aback when he recognized the dark expression on Castiel’s focussed features, how grim he seemed, how forceful his left hand played the bass line. He was apparently still in a bad mood. Dean studied the bruise on his face and wondered if Castiel was thinking about Aaron. A gaping wound opened in his heart, which bled with sympathy for the other man. Castiel was creating such beautiful music with his fingers, but he was suffering deep inside, and Dean wished he could take his pain away, that he could lift the burden from him.

Suddenly, Dean had an idea. He left Castiel in the living room and went upstairs to fetch something. When he returned, he sat down on the chair a few feet away from Castiel. He caught Castiel’s questioning eyes resting on him, while he checked if his old guitar was still in tune. A subtle smile darted over Castiel’s face, one that made Dean all flustered and happy inside. He decided it was time for less sad music, and since Castiel looked at him in a seemingly expectant manner, not continuing playing piano, Dean understood it was his turn to play a little something. He strummed a major C chord and let his raspy voice resound, filling the room effortlessly.

_„Well you wake up in the morning, you hear the work bell ring,_

_And they march you to the table, you see the same old thing,_

_Ain’t no food upon the table, and no pork up in the pan,_

_But you better not complain, boy, you get in trouble with the man”_

While Dean sang, his hands were basically just playing a variety of different basic chords in a lively speed – C, F, and G major – and Castiel was quickly picking up the rhythm of the popular song – „Midnight Special,“ a traditional country blues song, which had been sung for nearly a hundred years. Dean rejoiced when he sang the chorus and heard Castiel accompanying him on the piano, easily improvising a catchy baseline and some nice sounding effects with the higher notes with his right hand. Damn, they sounded good together. Dean felt as if he could fly, as if he was on top of the world.

 _„Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me, let the Midnight Special shine an ever-loving' light on me,”_ Dean sang, and his voice didn’t abandon him, but was strong and clear and had a breathy sound to it, which was all new to him. It had been quite a while since the last time he had sung this song. While he sang the chorus, Castiel looked up to him, his hands still working on the piano, and he smiled at Dean as if Dean meant the world to him. Dean marveled at the vivid gleam in Castiel’s deep blue eyes, how changed he seemed once they had started making music together. He sensed nothing but joy coursing through his veins like liquid happiness when they held each other’s glances for a moment, both knowing how much this moment meant to the other man. Then Dean had to concentrate on the second verse, so he closed his eyes and remembered the lyrics by heart. The rain outside was barely audible now, just an afterthought. Sometimes, the wind was still howling around the house, but it didn’t dim their spirits, and it couldn’t compete with their music. Bobby came into the house, grumbling about the weather, but then he stopped dead in his tracks and gaped at the two young men making music in his living room.

Dean was grinning at him sheepishly. Bobby just sat down on a chair in the kitchen and nodded at them, a friendly smile on his mouth. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in eager anticipation, and Dean and Castiel just continued playing piece after piece after piece. While the storm was raging outside, they were battling against it with their music, defying the chaos with their cheerful, unstoppable sounds. Castiel had no difficulties finding the right key and chords to the songs Dean played – Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had had so much fun making music with another person. Castiel had a great understanding of music and notes and rhythm, knowing exactly where and how to accompany Dean, when to play more detailed and friskily and when to let Dean’s guitar and voice take over.

It went without words when Dean’s voice got a little hoarse and when Castiel started playing classical piano music so that Dean could rest his vocal cords. Dean was filled with a nameless joy, which went right to his heart’s core, when he dared to accompany Castiel’s piano with his guitar carefully, and when this created a beautiful, moved smile on Castiel’s kissable mouth. Gently Dean’s fingers picked his guitar strings while Castiel’s fingers pressed down on the piano’s keys. They were so attuned, so perfectly in the same rhythm, there wasn’t even one misplayed note. It sounded heavenly to Dean. He could have continued playing for the entire day, forgetting everything around them but the music and Castiel – but then the oven beeped, reminding all of them of the meal Castiel had prepared.

Wistfully, they brought the last song to an end then. Bobby got up with a groan. While Dean played the last chords, he watched Bobby turning off the stove and arranging everything for their late lunch. Finally, the song was over. Dean put his guitar aside and let it rest against the nearest wall, suddenly feeling the silence within the house. Castiel closed the lid of the piano with caution. They both stood up in unison, seemingly still attuned to the other.

Dean observed Castiel standing opposite of him, beholding him openly. A fair, tender smile was on his mouth, and it looked as if it was here to stay. His eyes contained so much mirth and love at this moment, it astonished Dean with wonder. Had he brought this change over Castiel? It cut right into his soul - the pure, flawless beauty of Castiel, and to see him bereft of his burden. Dean’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Castiel approaching him. He watched him stretch out both his arms – and then Castiel was hugging him, pulling Dean harshly and close against his chest. His arms were holding Dean, and he could feel Castiel pillowed his chin on Dean’s shoulder. Castiel embraced him tightly; their hips and bellies touched, Dean perceived his chest, how it rose and fell against his with every breath. Suddenly, it was impossible to breathe. He was shaking inside, absolutely thrilled and excited to feel Castiel in his arms. Gingerly he wrapped his arms around Castiel’s hips as well and melted into their embrace. Letting go. He sighed wretchedly, feeling how the yearning within him grew unbearably. He heard and felt Castiel’s hot exhales in his ears. A shudder crawled over his skin; heat pooled in his lower abdomen. This nearness was torture, so alluring…

„Thank you,” Castiel said quietly and pressed Dean one more time. Then he carefully untangled himself from Dean, giving Dean a coy, lopsided smile when he looked up into his eyes shyly. Dean couldn’t help himself. He jokingly shoved Castiel’s shoulder and grinned from ear to ear, hiding how moved he was by Castiel’s physical closeness.

„Shut up,” he grinned, making Castiel laugh brightly.

„You _idjits._ Come and sit down,” Bobby bellowed, whereupon Dean just rolled his eyes faux-annoyed.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs appearing in this chapter - no copyright infringement intended, lyrics are not mine - are "The devil’s chasing me" – Reverend Horton; "Masquerade Waltz" by Aram Khachaturian and "Midnight Special" – traditional song
> 
> I can tell that next chapter things are going to heat up and gain speed ;-)


	8. Old school barbecue and going-out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there - anyone? Am I talking to myself? Is this the void, is anyone even reading here anymore? Lol, lonely times. Well, here's chapter 8! Songs mentioned in this chapter appearing in order in the notes at the end of this chapter. Ohhh and by the way: Jo and Ellen make a guest appearance in this chapter! Love those girls. Happy reading!

**Chapter 8 – Old school barbecue and going-out**

Ever since they had gotten Castiel’s things from Aaron’s place last Tuesday, Castiel seemed like a zombie during the following days. He was just going through the motions, with a pale complexion and sagging shoulders – the most he could bring himself to were tired smiles. It seemed as if all his strengths were spent. He kept going to work and always had breakfast and dinner with Bobby and Dean, but he was disturbingly silent. Dean kept a close eye on him, wondering if there was something he could do for the other man. Obviously, Castiel wanted to be alone: He spent the evenings all by himself, either going for a stroll or hiding away in his room. He never joined Dean and Bobby when they were watching a movie, talking over a beer, or playing poker. During a quiet hushed conversation on Thursday evening, Bobby told Dean that he had noticed Castiel’s odd behavior too, and that he was starting to worry about him. The last meeting with Aaron had left its marks on Cas, and they weren’t sure what they could do to help him get through this.

Then Friday evening came. The summer’s heat of the day had abated somewhat, as the late afternoon now morphed into an early evening. Castiel had returned to Bobby’s an hour ago, worn out from his job, and a little fatigued. He had greeted Bobby and Dean quickly, then he had disappeared for a shower and afterward retreated into his room. Dean was itching to talk to him, yet he didn’t want to overstep a line, wanted to give Castiel some time to himself. He caught Bobby’s contemplative glance as they stood in the kitchen, both of them clinging to their own thoughts.

„You know, I invited Jo and Ellen over for tonight. I think it’s best if we keep Castiel _entertained_ , so to say. I don’t think it’s good for him to lock himself away now and brood all the time. He needs a little company, a little distraction,” Bobby announced quietly, so that only Dean could hear him. Dean nodded and grinned approvingly.

„Nice, Bobby. Okay, so what’s the deal? What is the program for tonight?” he asked. Bobby frowned at him and with a meaningful look, he opened the fridge. There were several six-packs of cool beer, veggies, and sausages to barbecue and sauces for everything. On the kitchen counter were three fresh plain baguettes, just waiting to be devoured.

„We’re gonna barbecue in the yard and make a little campfire. Old school. I even have your old guitar at the ready.”

Dean laughed and rubbed a hand over his neck, feeling a little embarrassed at the thought.

„I would have to be very drunk to play in front of everyone. You know I’m a little bit hesitant with stuff like that.”

„Ah, nonsense,” Bobby dismissed the topic, „Jo and Ellen are basically family, and Castiel also isn’t a stranger. You got a great voice, son, and I haven’t heard you play in too damn long. Now, help me get everything ready. Let’s make it a surprise for Castiel.”

Dean grinned excitedly, feeling a rush of adrenaline. He imagined Castiel’s happy smile and a beautiful gleam in his eyes once the surprise was revealed; it felt good to do something for others, Dean thought, to give a little bit of hope back to someone who seemed to have lost it.

They carried everything outside, where an old wooden table and a few camp-chairs were, and Bobby got the grill going, setting the barbecue coal alight. When Dean had prepared all the food, he fetched logs and arranged them within a circle of big stones, piling the wood to make a bonfire. He then gathered more firewood, knowing how quickly the logs always burned down, and that nobody wanted to search for more firewood once the first beer bottles had been drained.

As if on cue, the moment they were done, Ellen and Jo showed up, bringing a bottle of whiskey and a bowl of salad. Their reunion was mirthful and they were all hugging in turns, laughing happily. Dean eyed Ellen thoroughly, recognizing she had a few more wrinkles around her eyes, but she seemed as brisk as ever. Jo looked less childlike nowadays, and her clothing style was more mature, and Dean was certain he knew what the diamond ring around her finger meant. They were all blathering and making themselves comfortable, when Castiel walked in on them, standing confused in the yard. Their loud voices and their laughter must have lured him to join them. Dean looked at him, feeling his heart skipping a beat. He looked stunning tonight, breathtaking.

Castiel wore a white button-down shirt, the first buttons were undone, showing his summer-tanned skin underneath; his hair was sternly combed to one side, and the dark blue jeans he wore flattered his muscular, lean thighs. Dean’s mouth was watering at the sight given. He lost all sensible thought, feeling a strange hunger growing within him, a flame blazing in his guts. He found his fingers were twitching, restless, wanting to touch Castiel, taking off the shirt that clung to his torso so enticingly. Then Dean’s eyes traveled up to Castiel’s face, and the wary look in Castiel’s eyes made Dean somber again. He looked so confused, shy, like a scared, trapped animal.

„What’s going on?” he asked timidly, checking his surroundings and the preparations Dean and Bobby had made. Ellen laughed heartily and shoved Castiel’s shoulder amicably.

„What do you think? Surprise! We’re having a little barbecue in your honor. It was Bobby’s idea, he said you need some distraction,” the older woman explained with a bright grin on her mouth. Castiel looked absolutely baffled, making them all laugh, and before anyone could say anything, Jo flung her arms around Castiel’s neck and drew him into a tight, long hug. It seemed that the embrace of his friend finally woke Castiel up. Dean absorbed in detail how Castiel started smiling carefully as if he didn’t believe this was really happening, and it moved Dean deeply. Castiel looked at them all, still hugging Jo, and a profound joy glimmered in his eyes.

„Thank you,” he said, his voice quivering somewhat. Dean realized Castiel wasn’t used to good surprises, or that people did something to cheer him up selflessly, and it made him sad and furious at the same time. Confused about the sudden rage of his emotions, he opened the beer bottles and gave everyone their first round. Castiel sat down at the table next to Jo, accepting the bottle Dean handed to him. For a second, their fingers touched, and they beheld each other. Dean felt lightheaded when he drowned in Castiel’s fond glance, the tiny smirk on his mouth as he studied Dean, a knowing expression in his eyes. He continued feeling the soft skin of Castiel’s fingers on his, even if they had only touched fleetingly, and for a good while, Dean couldn’t help but blush, knowing his cheeks were heated and red.

The sky was clear and darkening – a beautiful mixture of colors made them all often tilt their heads and contemplate the firmament. On the horizon, there was a tangerine afterglow of the setting sun, and above it, a line of petrol blue, merging into Copenhagen blue and finally black. Silvery stars dotted the sky abundantly, twinkling at the humans down below.

They ate and talked blithely, the topics of their conversation focussing on everything but relationships or Castiel’s abusive ex-boyfriend. Dean found his eyes often flitting to Castiel when the younger man laughed freely. They had lit candles by now, and the bonfire was cracking in the background, and Dean couldn’t stop looking at Castiel, how changed he seemed when he was unwound like that. He was simply gorgeous, admirable – the firelight created soft shadows on his skin, a bright light burned in his eyes, underlining their happy gleam. And while the conversations of everyone around the table became more animated by the minute and their laughter more unrestrained, Dean found he himself had grown all quiet and taciturn, absolutely mesmerized by Castiel’s appearance tonight. He was so happy to see Castiel this way, he was filled with a nameless joy that couldn’t be put into words.

Then Ellen poured everyone a tumbler with the whiskey she had brought, and after two rounds, she declared it was time for poker. So they sat there for a good while, ripping each other off again and again, laughing as everyone tried to break the others’ poker faces. Dean was good at poker, and he knew when to push his luck and when to fold. He and Bobby had played for years. But they found their master in Castiel, whose mien revealed not a single emotion, and Jo held her belly with laughter every time Castiel won the game effortlessly. Bobby groaned finally and walked away, returning with Dean’s old guitar in his hands.

„I can’t see us lose again, Dean. Castiel’s winning streak won’t end tonight, I suppose. Why don’t you play a little something for us, hm?”

Bobby suggested and put the guitar gently into Dean’s lap, ignoring his flabbergasted face. Jo squeaked excitedly and clapped into her hands.

„Oh yes, Dean. Please, I haven’t heard you in years,” she burst out, making Dean laugh shyly. His eyes once again searched for Castiel’s, feeling terribly vulnerable and naked all of a sudden. Making music was such an intimate thing for him, and when he sang, he always felt like he was showing all of his heart to the world… But then their eyes met, and Castiel beheld him mutely, a tender, calm smile on his mouth, the look of his eyes bewitching, penetrating Dean’s insides wordlessly.

„I would love to hear you, too,” he softly murmured. Okay, Dean was lost. Game over. He harrumphed and feigned annoyance, sending deadly glares to Jo and Bobby. Then he re-arranged his chair, feeling the heat of the bonfire a few feet away on his back. He checked the strings of the guitar and tuned them skillfully. Then he let his fingers glide over the guitar riff and the strings, cherishing the known feeling. The world around him lost its importance, its contours, as it always did when he started making music, and his thoughts completely dispersed in the song he began. He heard his own clear voice, singing the lyrics into the night, and suddenly understanding why he had picked this song.

_I don’t believe in an interventionist God_

_But I know darling, that you do_

_But if I did, I would kneel down and ask him_

_Not to intervene when it came to you_

_Oh, not to touch a hair on your head, leave you as you are,_

_And if he felt he had to direct you then direct you into my arms_

_Into my arms, oh Lord, into my arms_

_And I don’t believe in the existence of angels,_

_But looking at you I wonder if that’s true…_

…

His eyes wandered off to Castiel while he sang, and his appearance burned right into his soul. A tangerine glow from the near bonfire and the candlelight was on his face, made his eyes gleam mystically, beautifully. There were soft shadows crawling over his features. Fondness stood in his glance as his and Dean’s eyes met. He wore an appeased smile on his mouth as he listened to the song Dean was singing out into the night. Everyone sat around the table and listened with zest, their eyes bearing dreamy looks. Dean was surprised at how effortlessly he found the right chords and how well he remembered all the lyrics. He felt detached from the world, detached from all of his worries and pains. Whenever he made music, he was happy, nothing but himself, without any façade or inhibitions. The last sequence of the song had come, and he strummed the strings quieter now, let the sounds his guitar made vibrate in the air. Then there was silence. A moment passed, and then Ellen clapped slowly, appreciatively, whereas Jo sighed as if in deadly agony.

„Oh, one more, Dean, one more,” she pleaded, pouting at Dean puppy-eyed. He laughed. Damn Jo. She knew he couldn’t resist her petite sad face. Faux-annoyed he rolled his eyes and looked at Castiel. He was smirking at him knowingly.

„Come on, Dean, show us what you got,” he said and winked at him. Wow. Dean was glad that it was dark because he felt the heat rising up to his cheeks as he drowned in Castiel’s challenging, piercing look. He looked nothing but seductive, irresistible. Dean squinted at the people surrounding him as he rummaged in his mind for songs he liked and could play well, all the while fiddling mindlessly with the strings of his guitar.

He turned his head to Bobby, who was smiling at Dean kindly, raising his beer bottle to him. And then Dean was suddenly placed into the past, all those years ago, when he had worked together with Bobby at his junkyard. The radio had accompanied them all day. He remembered hot summer days like today, when he had worked under the hood of a car, and when he and Bobby had sung together - how happy he had been then, feeling like he belonged to this place perfectly. In the present, he now smiled at Bobby, simply grateful to have the old man in his life. He started one of the songs from those days then.

_I’m gonna take a freight train, down at the station_

_I don’t care where it goes_

_Gonna climb me a mountain, the highest mountain_

_Jump off, nobody gonna know_

_…_

It was a lively laid-back song, well-known to all of them, and Dean recognized all the appreciative looks in their eyes at his choice, their smiles. When the refrain started, he had to laugh while singing, because Ellen, Jo, and Bobby were all joining him, their voices loud and croaky. Castiel apparently didn’t know the song or the lyrics too well, because he just grinned at them all, watching them having the time of their lives.

_Oh, can’t you see, can’t you see, what that woman, she been doing to me_

_Oh, can’t you see, can’t you see, what that woman, she been doing to me_

Castiel leaned back in his chair, his hands lying in his lap, and closed his eyes while he listened to them all. Pleasure was written all over his clean-cut face. Dean marveled at his slackened features, how relaxed and comfortable he seemed. How peaceful. It filled Dean with savage affection for the other man. He felt a bittersweet pull at his heartstrings, realizing that Castiel was getting better day by day, and how glad it made Dean. While he continued singing and playing, he beheld Castiel, nothing but satisfied to see him like this.

They continued like this for a good while, either Dean singing songs by himself, or accompanied by the rest of them. Dean’s repertoire was immense, and he knew all kinds of songs to perform. Most of them were classic rock songs, songs he had grown up with, as his father had listened to them extensively. They were a big reminder of Dean’s childhood and youth, and as an adult, he had come to cherish these songs even more, having found a different approach to them. His father had served as a marine in the Vietnam War; he had been a young man and seen and done many ugly things, for which there were no words – but in a lot of songs Dean listened to nowadays, he found the lyrics said all John Winchester must have felt.

Sometime later, Dean was a little hoarse, so he put down the guitar with a heavy heart and grabbed his beer bottle to wet his parched throat. Bobby was already dozing in his chair, and Ellen’s lids were drooping tiredly as well. Jo beheld Dean with a feisty glimmer in her eyes, a mischievous grin on her mouth. Dean turned his head to see how Castiel was faring, finding that the other man was looking at him thoughtfully, an acknowledging flame dancing in his deep blue eyes.

„You know, I could listen to you forever,” Castiel said quietly. Dean smiled, feeling a sweet wave of confidence washing through him. Castiel’s compliment gave wings to his weary soul, which made him feel as if on top of the world.

„You might have another chance tomorrow night, Cassie,” Jo said cryptically. Dean regarded her with a frown.

„What the hell are you talking about?”

Jo grinned impishly, leaning forward as if she was revealing a secret to the other two men.

„Tomorrow night is karaoke night at The Roadhouse. You and Castiel should totally come.”

„Karaoke night? At The Roadhouse? You’re kidding. Is this the same Roadhouse we’re talking about?” Dean asked, wide-eyed. He couldn’t believe it. Jo shrugged nonchalantly.

„Well, the house is always crammed with people. And mom and I make a lot of money that night. Come on, Dean, it will be fun! You could move your lame ass to The Roadhouse for one evening. We haven’t seen you there in ages. You know, like the good old days…,” Jo said.

She was trying to wrap Dean around her little finger and she was about to succeed. Dean considered her offer, not really wanting to make a fool of himself, but partly thinking it was a tempting offer. Also, when he regarded Castiel, he thought the other man could really use all the distraction and fun he could get after what he had been through. Dean sighed, not having come to a decision yet.

„I think you remember the good old days very differently than I do,” he pointed out with a sarcastic smile. Yeah, he had been at The Roadhouse plenty of times, _uncountable_ times – but mostly, it had only been to drag his dad’s drunken ass home when John Winchester had nurtured his alcohol addiction. In that awful time of his life, Dean had established a close relationship with Ellen, who owned the bar, and they had talked with each other several times a week. She had become something like a surrogate mother to him back then, listening to his sorrows and looking out for him. Ellen had always called Dean when John had exaggerated again and needed someone to pick him up… Jo beheld Dean as they both remembered those days, and a wistful smile came to Jo’s mouth. She seemed to get what Dean was referring to and nodded solemnly.

„I’m up for a night out,” Castiel suddenly chimed in, smiling amusedly at Dean.

„But only if you’re coming with me, Dean.”

It made Dean chuckle to himself. That damn son of a bitch. In defeat, he threw his hands into the air, hearing both Castiel and Jo laugh at that.

„Alright, alright. I’m coming with.”

…

Dean was checking himself in the head-high mirror one last time, spiking up his hair with a little gel. He had donned a plain white T-shirt and a denim button-down shirt, along with olive-colored pants and his boots. He and Castiel had decided to drive to The Roadhouse and walk back, because Dean wanted to drink a few beers – and he wasn’t going to drive sloshed. Also, he liked Castiel, but he wasn’t going to hand him the keys to his Impala – no frigging way. It had taken Sam _years_ to get this vote of confidence from Dean, and even nowadays, when Sam drove the Impala, Dean was still muttering and complaining about Sam’s driving style all the time. So, a walk back home by foot would be the program for tonight. The denim shirt would keep Dean comfortably warm – even though it was the middle of a dry and hot summer, it surely got brisk at night.

When he exited his room and walked downstairs, Castiel was already waiting for him down there in the entrance hall. Dean regarded him, his jaw dropping somewhat. He looked stunning, simply gorgeous. For once, Castiel didn’t wear his hair strictly combed to one side, but a little spiky and ruffled, which someone really brought out the intense blue of his eyes. He was wearing plain dark blue trousers and a white button-down, but he had donned a banged-up jeans jacket – it gave him a reckless look, as if he had jumped right out of the Westside story. Dean was musing if he also kept a knife in his pocket, rolling his eyes at himself for this stupid thought. With pleasure, Dean watched the little shade of stubbles on Castiel’s cheeks, loving how ruggedly handsome it made him look. He whistled appreciatively when he approached the other man.

„Who do _you_ wanna ensnare tonight?” Dean quipped good-humored, smiling at Castiel. Cas passed him by, rolling his eyes but grinning at the same time.

„Come on, Winchester. Your presence is awaited,” Castiel commented dryly and left Bobby’s house. Dean bit on his bottom lip as he studied Castiel’s hips swinging from left to right, from left to right, absolutely mesmerized. This guy was going to be the death of him.

„See you later, Bobby,” he called through the house, receiving a „Behave!” in return. He smirked and left the house.

They drove to The Roadhouse, which was no more than a ten-minute drive. After a few minutes and many intersecting roads, they left the inhabited part of the town behind and entered the industrial area. Here there were massive warehouses and factories, all closed now at the end of the day. Their emergency lighting was orange, cutting through the dark surrounding night like little campfires as Dean and Castiel drove them by. The radio was playing quietly as Dean steered the Impala to The Roadhouse skillfully, knowing the way by heart.

„So… what will you sing for us tonight? Do you have any song in mind already?” Castiel asked, giving Dean a roguish smirk paired with a quick side glance. Dean squinted at him threateningly. Cas, that son of a bitch, was _taunting_ him. 

„Oh yeah, I have an ace up my sleeve. Just wait and see, buddy…,” he muttered with a secret smile.

…

When they entered The Roadhouse, the lighting was murky but cozy. The whole place was nothing but a big shed made of wood, and it always smelt of spilled beer and whiskey, paired with unwashed bikers and the tangy scent of leather. It reminded Dean of all those bygone years he had spent here, picking up his father or drinking a beer with Jo and Ellen. He and Castiel paused at the entrance area for a moment, orientating themselves in the glum. Dean was truly stunned. The place really was crammed, as if half the town was assembled here tonight. Most of the crowd seemed to have gathered in front of the stage, where the karaoke singers were giving their best, so at the bar and in the back of the room, there were enough seats unoccupied. Castiel pointed at a free table near the stage, so Dean and he headed for it in silent understanding.

When they walked past the group of people, Dean could smell their perfumes and aftershaves, their salty sweat, the tons of hairspray. He heard snippets of conversations, laughter, and some people were dancing and swaying back and forth rhythmically. While walking, Dean risked a glance at the stage, overjoyed to find Jo was standing there. She was moving to the music, which had just started, with closed eyes and a blissed-out smile on her face. A soothing, serene blues song filled The Roadhouse. Dean and Castiel sat down in the booth, their eyes resting on Jo with glee as they listened to her when she started singing. She sang „time to travel” by Sue Foley, and it fit to her assertive female voice perfectly. Dean found himself rocking on his seat to the rhythm, enjoying the song thoroughly.

_Time to travel, baby_

_I think I hit the road again_

_Time to travel, baby_

_I got nobody to call my special friend_

…

Ellen appeared at their table suddenly, bringing them both a bottle of beer and some salted peanuts to snack on. She nodded at Dean with a smirk, nodding towards Jo on the stage.

„She’s good!” Dean called to drown out the music, showing her the thumbs up, whereupon Ellen grinned proudly.

„Of course, she is, Winchester! That’s my girl!” Ellen said.

With a wink she walked away, leaving Dean and Cas smiling. They chinked their beer bottles together and took a few gulps. Dean had missed the sour, tangy flavor of the only beer brand The Roadhouse had in stock. He let the lemony taste melt in his mouth thoughtfully, wondering how many years had passed since the last time he had consumed this brand. Dean leaned back against the corner booth’s wall with a sigh, enjoying the loose, high-spirited atmosphere all around him. Castiel soon did the same. They drank their beers in silence as they sat side by side, listening to Jo and letting their eyes wander all over the place.

When Jo had finished her song, there was a loud cheer and appreciative whistling. Dean smirked when Jo had made them out and walked over to them. Her cheeks were reddened and her hair a little sweat-soaked. She was puffing and blowing when she sat down at their table.

„Seems like you’re a little stage hog, Jo,” Dean teased. He laughed when Jo wanted to punch his shoulder, and quickly ducked away. Castiel laughed at that.

„That’s rich, coming from you,” Jo answered, and stuck out her tongue at Dean. It made Dean roll his eyes inwardly – whenever he was around Jo, they were behaving ridiculously, like little kids. Maybe it was because Jo had always felt like a little sister to him. Jo pointed at Dean and gave Castiel a warning look, her eyes wide open.

„Just wait, Cassie, until Dean is on stage. I bet he’s stealing everybody’s thunder tonight.”

„Ah, don’t pressure me,” Dean said with a grin, taking another gulp from his bottle. He noticed with displeasure that his bottle was already empty. Damn it. Where did the beer always disappear to so quickly?

„First, I have to give myself plenty of liquid courage,” he announced. Jo rolled his eyes at him and got up.

„I’m getting another round for us. Maybe something stronger, Dean? We’ve got some good whiskey,” she offered. Dean nodded.

„Oh, I will hate myself tomorrow morning,” he grumbled to himself when Jo walked away. The problem with being an adult was, that there was no one who was going to stop him from doing something stupid. Like getting drunk at the age of 31. Castiel moved so that he was facing toward Dean, his upper body turned to the other man. He was searching for Dean’s eyes with interest, and when Dean looked at him, he saw the playful glint in his eyes. Castiel’s eyes were scanning Dean’s feature attentively, taking in the emotions flickering over Dean’s face.

„I don’t even know why you’re degrading yourself like that, Dean. I heard you last night. You have a tremendous voice, and you can play the guitar so well,” Castiel praised. They didn’t even pay attention to the next singer on stage anymore as they started talking with one another. Dean couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. He knew he wasn’t half bad, but he wasn’t a professional when it came to singing or playing instruments.

„Thanks, buddy.” For a second, he paused, then he chuckled to himself when memories returned to him.

„You know, when I was a teenager, I wanted to be a rock star. I taught myself how to play guitar… and I guess I was getting on my dad’s and Sammy’s nerves all the time, because I kept singing to loud music in my room…”

Castiel smiled at him with sweet fondness in his eyes. It made Dean’s hair stand on end, made his whole body prickle. He hadn’t been looked at like that in ages, it seemed. With appreciation, admiration. As if he was someone special. Castiel leaned forward, into Dean’s personal space, his lids drooping as he regarded Dean with fire in his look. His voice was low and seductive, put warmth into Dean’s lower body.

„I’ve heard rock stars, who are worse than you, Dean Winchester.”

Flustered, Dean beheld Castiel, feeling overwhelmed with his sudden nearness. He could smell his lemony aftershave, the soapy scent of his skin, his body warmth… He was starting to become light-headed. Just as he was about to say something witty, or worse, something clumsy, they were interrupted: Jo returned to them with a serving tray, putting down glasses with Whiskey on the table, alongside rounds of shots and more beer. She gave them long, meaningful glances, as they gazed at her in awe due to the copious number of beverages.

„What?” she said defensively. „I wanna get you drunk. Surprise, surprise,” she grinned like the devil. Castiel sighed, then pursed his lips to a sulky pout. It was the cutest thing Dean had seen in a good while. He bit on his bottom lip, stifling the laughter which wanted to escape him.

„Jo, you know I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. Gimme three beers and I’m drunk already.”

Jo sat down with a roguish, dangerous twinkle in her look. She placed the shots in front of them decisively.

„That’s why I like you, Cas. You’re cheap in maintenance.”

„Pshaw!” Castiel said indignantly and glared at Jo. He downed the shot in one swift go, looking at her piercingly with his steadfast poker face. Then he suddenly shuddered with disgust and grimaced strained when the taste of the alcohol was on his tongue. Jo and Dean laughed, knowing perfectly well that this was the only type of shots The Roadhouse was serving.

„Yeah, buddy, I was the same when I had Purple Nurples for the first time,” Dean admitted. Castiel frowned at him, incredulity written all over his face.

„Purple Nurples?”

„I came up with the name,” Jo said boasting with pride.

„Why doesn’t this surprise me?” Castiel teased with a grin.

They continued bickering good-humored for some time. Sometimes they listened to a particularly skilled singer performing on stage, sometimes they talked blithely about this and that. No grave or world-shaking topics were served today, and Dean was glad about it. It was good to get all the heavy stuff off your chest every once in a while, but sometimes it was necessary to be silly and just have a laugh. The world was already sinister enough, so it did him well to just talk stupid trash with Jo and Castiel. Despite his usually so brooding behavior, Castiel possessed a playful, silly side, which Dean hadn’t come to see that often. He watched him and Jo talking animatedly, excited about a TV show both of them were watching. For a while, he just contemplated Castiel, and how gorgeous he was when enthusiasm for something filled him. It was as if Dean could see his true colors, as if he could see the endless beauty of his meek heart…

A wave of sleepiness washed through him and he yawned. He was getting tired due to all the booze they had downed already, and if he was going to sing karaoke tonight, he better started with it before he was falling asleep.

He struggled to his feet with a groan and walked away to the stage. With certainty, he picked the song from the computer, grinning to himself when he entered the stage and took the mic.

The first beats filled The Roadhouse. Laughter and whistling from the crowd followed.

Dean started shaking his hips, moving to the rhythm with a cheeky grin. He was _somewhat_ tipsy, and he didn’t even give a damn what anyone was thinking. He was having a blast. Half laughing, he started singing.

_I believe in miracles,_

_Where you from, you sexy thing_

_You sexy thing, you_

_I believe in miracles, since you came along,_

_You sexy thing_

…

Astonishingly enough, Dean pulled off the song pretty well – his voice was steady and he hit every note. And despite his alcohol stupor, he remembered all the lyrics. Paired with it, he put on a little show, pointing at random people in the audience when he sang “You sexy thing”, hearing their laughter. He knew he got the moves when he was in the right mood, so he shook his hips and started toying with his button-down shirt a little, teasing the audience in jest. He couldn’t see a lot due to the bright spotlights, but from what he could make out and hear, most of the people were dancing or singing along with him. His eyes traveled to Jo and Cas sitting in the booth. They were watching him with amused grins, their eyes gleaming with humor. He saw them putting their heads together while they beheld him, whispering into each other’s ears excitedly. Dean wondered if they were talking about him. He kept singing, his eyes glued to Castiel, just as Castiel’s eyes were resting on his. A strange fire was burning those eyes, their look penetrated Dean’s insides easily.

_Where did you come from, angel?_

_How did you know I'd be the one?_

_Did you know you're everything I prayed for?_

_Did you know, every night and day for?_

…

When the song ended, the crowd was roaring with laughter and cheering Dean for a good while. He appreciated the wild enthusiasm and took a bow comically. There was a bounce in his step when he returned to the table where Jo and Cas were sitting. He gave them a winning grin and winked at them confidently, wiggling with his eyebrows. Jo rolled his eyes at him when he sat down, and slid another bottle of beer to Dean.

„Told you, Cas. He’s a total show-off,” she muttered. Dean’s eyes met Castiel’s, and he was thrilled to see the other man was beholding him with nothing but adoration and amusement.

„Yes, but Dean can afford to. I mean, this was like a whole other level of entertainment. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time,” he said cheerfully. Dean wasn’t sure if this was a compliment, so he frowned and thought about it.

„Thanks, I guess?”

Jo shoved Castiel’s shoulder amicably.

„You’re only saying that because you’re hot for his knickers,” she bantered. Dean watched how uptight Castiel became at that, how his whole upper body tensed up as he beheld Jo with a dark, threatening look, a dangerous smile looming on his mouth.

„You shut your mouth, Jo Harvelle,” he said, whereupon Jo just laughed blithely. Dean tried to put one and one together, wondering about the truth content to Jo’s words. If Castiel really wanted him… He gulped thickly, fighting against the ball of nervousness and heat within him. His heart was palpitating, there was a riot in his head, like white-hot static. He studied Castiel’s face secretly, his eyes always traveling to his plush pink lips, wondering what they tasted like tonight, how they would feel against his own lips… An electric shudder ran through him. To distract himself, he continued drinking his beer, and half-heartedly turned his attention to the karaoke singers again.

After a while, the awkward tension between them all disappeared again, and they continued talking easily. Castiel was just telling them a story about a trial he had to oversee at court, one of his first cases as a new judge a few years ago.

„And this defendant entered the courtroom, and he _reeked_ of sour sweat and onions. Ugh, I smelt him ten feet away. And I had been out the night before, so I was still pretty hungover. I couldn’t stand it. I was about to throw up anytime throughout that whole hearing. The thought crossed my mind to discharge him quickly so that I wouldn’t have to smell him any longer,” he narrated. Dean was crying with laughter, sighing and shaking with laughter as he wiped a tear away.

„That’s the price you pay for your high salary, Cassie,” Jo said and got up.

„No, no, it’s not a salary, it’s compensation for personal suffering,” Castiel said with conviction.

Jo took the serving tray into her hands and regarded the two men challengingly, asking them if they wanted another round. Dean raised his hands in defeat, dismissing her offer.

„Nah, Jo. It’s getting late. And our buddy Cas here sounds as if he is chewing marbles while talking. I think it’s time we hit the road, Cas. We still have to walk a fair way,” he suggested. Castiel nodded pensively then and scratched his stubbles. They got up in unison – Dean couldn’t help but laugh when Castiel was swaying back and forth, definitely not used to this amount of alcohol he had consumed. Dean walked over to him and gave Jo a reproaching, meaningful look. She had wanted to get them drunk, and she had gotten the job done quite well.

„Come here, buddy,” he said, and put an arm around Castiel’s back, helping him keep his balance.

„Night, you two. And drop me a line that you’ve gotten home okay,” Jo said with a friendly smile. Dean nodded, then turned around to go, with Castiel in tow, steering him through the crowd towards the exit. When they left The Roadhouse, the air outside was brisk and spicy. Dean inhaled it deeply, feeling it revive him. For a moment, they walked in silence, their feet in lockstep. They walked past the parked Impala; Dean patted her hood and wished his baby a good night, then they continued with their way home. The loud noises of The Roadhouse started fading away, just became a blurred murmur in the background.

The streets were deserted and quiet as they made their way through the industrial area. Every now and then, they passed by a factory or a warehouse, and the orange lights lit up their way brightly. Apart from that, the white and few streetlamps illuminated the black night, their electric light stinging in Dean’s eyes after the gloom within The Roadhouse. A soft breeze was blowing, carrying the warmth of summer with it. Dean was deeply lost in thought as his arm was slung around Castiel’s back. He thought about the familiarity coursing through all of his cells, how good it felt to walk with Castiel like that. Unknowingly, his fingers dug into the soft fabric of Castiel’s jeans jacket, holding him tighter.

„You know… I really had a great time tonight,” Castiel started, his voice low and deep. While walking, Dean turned his head to look down into Castiel’s eyes, bestowing a gentle smile on him. It warmed his heart to see his smile returned easily; for a moment, he allowed himself to marvel at the light of the streetlamps mirrored in Castiel’s eyes, how unearthly beautiful he looked tonight.

„I haven’t had this much fun in a lifetime, it seems,” Castiel added, smiling wistfully, then he looked away. He seemed abashed, as if he had revealed more to Dean than he had initially planned. Dean bit on his bottom lip, knowing exactly what Castiel was alluding to. He shook Castiel’s shoulder amicably, drawing him closer against his side.

„That’s a shame, Cas…”

For a while they kept silence, each man lost to his own train of thoughts.

„Hey, can I ask you something?” Dean dared to say, feeling his heart tripling its beat. He knew he was going to risk a lot if he stepped into these deep waters, but his urge to know Castiel even better got a hold of him. He couldn’t suppress this urge any longer.

„Why did you stay with Aaron if you weren’t happy? I mean, from what I figured out, you weren’t happy in over a year or something. Bobby told me the last year had been hell for you. And now you’re saying you didn’t have a lot of fun in ages… Just curious.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Dean realized Castiel was constricting with discomfort – Dean could also feel the tension coming to life in Castiel’s whole back, he could feel how Castiel became rigid right underneath his palm. Immediately he felt regret. He hadn’t meant to push Castiel.

„I’m sorry, forget about it,” he swiftly said. He felt like a total douchebag for even bringing this topic up again.

„It’s okay, Dean. To be honest… I was holding on to an illusion, to a pipe dream,” Castiel said. Dean’s eyes quickly darted off to the other man, and he detected grimness on his features as Castiel kept on walking and stared out into the night ahead.

„Aaron hadn’t always been like that. When he and I fell in love, he was funny, and charming… he was fulfilling my every wish, and he was so sweet. But in the last year, he had changed so terribly. He lost his job because of some cost-saving measures at his company, and he really took it to heart. And then the whole thing with his morbid jealousy started… thinking back, I can’t believe I never saw the early signs, that I never saw it coming. It just got worse and worse… and I kept thinking… if I tried really hard, you know, he would change to the old Aaron I knew. That he would treat me with love and respect again… „

Castiel clicked his tongue, overwhelmed with pain, and paused for a moment.

„Turns out that I only received insults, threats, and hits from him. Now I wonder if he ever was the man he pretended to be when we first met. If all of it was a well-played charade only to beguile me…”

Dean listened attentively, and his heart grew heavy with sympathy. It sounded tough to be disappointed like that, to see a love you once cherished die away and turn into something so ugly.

„I’m sorry, Cas,” he mumbled. Castiel turned around to him then, his eyes gleaming with affection. He smiled carefully at Dean and stopped in his tracks, thus making Dean stop as well.

„No, it’s all right, Dean. I’ve accepted that Aaron is who he is, and that he isn’t good for me. And I wanna thank you, Dean… You gave me hope that there are still some honorable people out there, that not everyone around me is bringing me bad luck. If everyone was as decent as you are, this world would be a better place.”

Dean tilted his head and looked down, unable to regard Castiel any longer, moved by his compliment. He couldn’t stand the fondness for him in Castiel’s glance, how sweet his smile was. Dean felt his cheeks flush brightly red and it made him all edgy. He didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, Castiel took a step closer, right into the little bubble that was Dean’s personal space. Dean’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Castiel’s jeans jacket closer, his dark jeans so close to his own, their torsos nearly touching. His breathing accelerated with nervousness.

Castiel raised one hand and placed it on Dean’s cheek – Dean felt the weight of it, the warm and dry skin, smelling divine of Castiel’s unique lemony scent. Dean slowly lifted his eyes, only to drown in Castiel’s eyes so close to his, staring at him openly, knowingly. The littlest of smiles was playing around the corners of his mouth. Castiel leaned in then and closed his eyes, a shadow of longing crawling over his features. With caution, he pressed his lips against Dean’s, kissing him fleetingly. It was like the touch of a butterfly, tickling and volatile. Goosebumps spread all over Dean’s skin. He felt dizzy, aching with need and want, as he gingerly answered to the pressure of Castiel’s lips against his. His head started spinning. On their own, his lids fell shut, too.

He felt Castiel’s supple lips moving over his, and he inhaled shakily. Then Castiel was kissing him with gusto, his mouth gliding together with Dean’s hotly and affirmatively. A soft moan escaped Cas as their lips touched again and again, coming together for one kiss after the other. It was wild and overwhelming and wonderful. Castiel’s hand then slid down Dean’s cheek slowly, tickled Dean in an arousing way. Castiel’s fingers grabbed the back of Dean’s head and pulled him closer, intensifying their kisses. Passionately they kissed, slowly and deeply, and Dean started to lose every coherent thought. His balance became a memory in the back of his mind, as his knees turned to jelly. He dispersed completely in Castiel’s kisses, loved how he abused his mouth so perfectly. A knot in his abdomen was unraveling, and it filled him with extreme tingling heat. He could have kissed Castiel forever, it felt so good.

All at once, he sensed Castiel’s other arm coming around his hips, holding him closer, so that their chests were colliding, their pelvises meeting. Dean panicked. This was too much. Too close. Too dangerous. The voice of reason was suddenly very loud in his own head. What the hell were they even doing? He pulled back a little and ended their kisses, huffing and puffing against Castiel’s wet lips. He tried to regain his composure, his balance. With half-closed eyes, he beheld Castiel, who looked nothing but gorgeous and beautifully wrecked by his lust. Dean could have devoured him right there on the spot.

„Are you sure this is a good idea?” he spoke under his breath, fighting hard against the urge to give in to temptation. Castiel mustered him with a long look, an enigmatic smile on his mouth.

„I don’t know, Dean…”

With a sigh, Dean brought up both his hands to Castiel’s face, cradling it in his hands. Damn it. He beheld Castiel as he felt the dreadful fear returning to him, the fear of falling apart again. He had been such a mess when Lisa had died… and he couldn’t become vulnerable again for something that wasn’t serious. When he loved, he loved deeply. He couldn’t stand anything else, being toyed with mindlessly.

„Okay, buddy. Lemme tell you something,” he said calmly, trying to soothe his nerves. „Next time you kiss me, you better know what you’re doing. You better make it count for something. Because I’m not looking for a fling or whatever. I’m not the same guy anymore you slept with three years ago. Got it?”

Castiel nodded, obviously shaken by Dean’s confession.

„I’m sorry, Dean. I… I don’t know what I was doing, what I was thinking,” he stammered helplessly. Immediately he took a step back from Dean, and Dean felt as if he could breathe again, as if he hadn’t breathed in minutes. A big part of Dean was sorry, the other part of him relieved. At least he wouldn’t get hurt again… Though he already missed Castiel’s kisses, they were so addictive…He gave Castiel a once-over, who was running a shaky hand through his black hair, apparently upset by his own actions.

„Don’t sweat it, Cas. In fact, you’re a pretty good kisser,” he said with a smirk. It made Castiel grin and reply „you’re not half bad yourself, Winchester” and for that, Dean felt as if on top of the world, stupidly happy. He gave him a nod towards the way still ahead of them and stretched out his arm invitingly. He was glad when Castiel returned to him and when he could throw his arm around his back again.

„Come on, let’s go home,” he said.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs appearing in this order:  
> Nick Cave - Into my arms  
> The Marshall Tucker Band - can't you see (really really like this one)  
> Sue Foley - Time to travel (go and listen to it and tell me it wouldn't absolutely fit to Jo!)  
> Hot Chocolate - You sexy thing
> 
> Again, no copyright infringement intended to either the lyrics or the songs.
> 
> Never thought the day would come when I include Hot Chocolate in a story of mine. Hahaha. Funny times.
> 
> Sooooooo what do you think?? I dare you to comment :-P


	9. It’s all about ze body language, la passion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely readers <3 thanks for the kudos, bookmarks and comments so far! Especially to Zarriel, who really had a go on this story haha - it was a much needed motivational boost for me. So, the story will overall have circa 17 chapters. For the next two weeks, I'm 99% certain to have updates coming steady, but not sure so much for chapter 13 and 14 and so on... have to hurry up :-) 
> 
> Warning, this chapter is ridiculously romantic lol... and there's a guest appearance of someone special hehe... so, happy reading!

**Chapter 9 – It’s all about ze body language, la passion!**

Saturday night, it took Dean a long time until he could finally fall asleep, his lips still burning with Castiel’s kisses. Again and again he touched his mouth, felt the phantom kisses of Castiel’s lips. He was nothing but braindead goo, just couldn’t believe what had happened this night. Oh, he had seen it coming, he wasn’t that stupid after all. But he still found it difficult to wrap his head around the events. A bittersweet sensation filled him, weighed his heart down, as he lay in his bed and stared into the dark night around him. It had felt so good to kiss Cas, to be close to him, to feel desired… but then his old friend named fear had caught him off-guard, just when he had started to let go of his inhibitions, and the susurration of said fear had spoken of death, of loss, of anguish.

Dean wiped over his tired eyes, the chaos in his head about to explode. When would this evil voice inside of him finally wither and let him be? Was he supposed to spend a lifetime all alone, just because his heart had been broken so badly? Had he become incapable of letting go, of loving someone? He was certain he had made the right choice, that he had shown Cas his boundaries, that he didn’t just want a fling. But why did it feel so wrong? Why did it feel like he had made a huge, stupid mistake? He gnawed on his lower lip pensively, wondering if he had shooed Cas away for good now. If the other guy would ever approach him again.

On Sunday morning, the three men came together in the kitchen for breakfast. Castiel, as well as Dean, were somewhat hungover and therefore taciturn, both of them massaging their temples due to vicious headaches. When their eyes met while they put all the foodstuff on the kitchen table, Dean detected the wariness in Castiel’s look, his polite smile as he moved around Dean. He seemed a little shy, as if he longed to make amends for his insouciant kisses from last night. It made Dean want to fall down on his knees, grab Castiel’s hands and unburden all of his heart to him. Did Castiel misunderstand him so badly? Had he missed the part where Dean had kissed him back with all his heart? That he wanted Cas, too? Dean sighed as he sat down, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Bobby didn’t notice that something had been going on between the two young men – and by all appearances, Dean and Cas behaved more or less normal around one another. They talked, as usual, bantering here and there, especially about being hungover, which gave Bobby grim satisfaction.

In the next days, some sort of normalcy was re-established. Dean joined Castiel on a stroll through the countryside on Sunday evening, and they talked about their favorite movies and bands for a good while, enjoying their placid conversation – but neither of them ever mentioned their kisses again or what they were feeling for the other man. These topics were eschewed with utmost care, as if they feared they could overstep an invisible line, which might severely hurt the other man.

Dean kind of felt the urge to talk about _them_ anyway, because he needed to know what he was to Cas, whether Cas felt something for him… but he never found the courage to say the words resting on his mind. And since Castiel didn’t address the topic either, Dean slowly but surely started to think that maybe Castiel’s ground had shifted, that maybe he wasn’t that keen anymore to get involved with Dean, if Dean wanted more than from him than just a one-night-stand. The idea made Dean sad, corded up his throat with pain, for it made him feel like nothing more than easily replaceable trash. He still carried a spark of pride within him, so he kept his mouth shut and didn’t talk about whatever Cas was or wasn’t feeling for him.

On the bright side, Castiel’s mood became more cheerful in the coming days. When he came home from work, he spent each evening now with Bobby and Dean. The living room and kitchen were filled with laughter and music, for Dean and Cas continued making music together – and they often laughed about Bobby’s cheekiness, when he demanded songs from them, as if they were his personal jukebox and he was their DJ. The old man sat in his wingback chair with crossed arms, tapping his foot to the rhythm with satisfaction, and on his grim face sometimes loomed the idea of a smile. Dean could have made music with Castiel forever. In these moments, when Dean was playing the guitar, and when Castiel’s fingers sped over the piano keys, they felt like a union again, like an inseparable team. Dean couldn’t find words for the rapture taking a hold of him, whenever his and Castiel’s eyes met during a song, whenever they improvised pieces together and everything just sounded right. There were no words for the joy he felt, for the infinite fondness in Castiel’s gorgeous eyes as he regarded Dean with a sweet smile. It gave Dean the tiniest amount of hope that Castiel was feeling more for him, that there was a chance for them…

Thursday came. By now, Dean wondered if Castiel was ever going to hit on him again, or whether he had finally decided that he didn’t want more from Dean than just one hot night. Dean feared the latter – a thought, which made him feel useless, unlovable, just like a piece of meat. Maybe he had nothing more to offer now than a body – and maybe his own heart thought so too, didn’t want to give Dean permission to love and be loved again. He had decided to kill all his stupid thoughts with work to distract himself. He couldn’t stand the state his mind was currently in, it had become unbearable.

After a long afternoon in Bobby’s yard, fixing broken and old cars in the summer heat, Dean was soaked through with sweat, oil, and grime when he stepped into the noticeably cooler house. He opened the fridge and got himself an icy bottle of beer, gulping the liquid down greedily. He sighed satisfied when he put the bottle down again and looked out of the window. He could still see Bobby in the yard, picking up their tools and cleaning up a little bit. He would soon come inside and they would probably cook a little something. It was awfully quiet in the house. Dean wondered if Castiel was home yet – it was already after five, and usually he was done with his job at half-past four. Dean turned around and inspected the shoe rack in the hallway, finding Castiel’s clean and polished black leather business shoes there, and then he realized Castiel was home already and probably up in his room, brooding as usual.

Dean chewed on his bottom lip, wondering whether to let the man alone in his room, or whether to check in on him. He decided for the latter and climbed the stairs, soundless through being barefooted. When he was upstairs, he saw the door to Castiel’s room had been left ajar, a sign that he didn’t mind any company.

Dean smiled a little the moment he glimpsed at Castiel, sitting on the bed, probably freshly showered – his hair was still wet, and he was only wearing a white T-shirt and navy-blue tracksuit pants, and he was also barefooted. He looked gorgeous, fresh, and beautifully clean in comparison to Dean. Dean frowned as he realized he direly needed a shower. He was greasy and dirty. His delicate smile vanished when he understood Castiel was in a bad mood, as he contemplated something he was holding in his hands, a glassy look in his unfocused eyes. He hadn’t even taken notice of Dean standing in the doorway yet.

„Hey, Cas,” Dean said friendly, greeting the other man. Castiel looked up, somewhat startled, but then he managed to smile a little at Dean. „What’s up?” Dean asked, „Why the gloomy face?”

Castiel scoffed a laugh and shrugged off the question, but a helpless, confused look remained in his deep blue eyes. He held up the little piece of paper he was holding in his hands as if this gave any explanation to Dean’s question.

„I’ve got a voucher here which Jo gave to me as a gift a while ago. It’s for a dancing lesson for Tango Argentino. Jo knew about Aaron’s and my issues, and she thought it might help if we did something together, like dancing together. Actually, it was a nice gesture, but it was a waste of effort. I just feel bad about letting it expire just like that because Jo spent her money on this. The lesson was supposed to be today… But, oh well, it can’t be helped,” Castiel explained quietly, his eyes wandering off to Dean’s when he had finished speaking. Dean’s reason vanished into thin air when he drowned in Castiel’s mesmerizing blue eyes – he felt as if under a spell, as if hypnotized. He gulped thickly around the lump forming in his throat. His heart was hammering against his rib cage as he said the next words, a fierce blush spreading up to his ears.

„Well. We could go together. I… I know the basic figures for tango,” he offered, going out on a limb. It put a sly grin on Castiel’s mouth, and his eyes suddenly glimmered zestfully.

„You’re full of surprises, Dean. Really? How come?”

Dean shrugged.

„Lisa and I had to attend the wedding of her friend, once. And she didn’t want me to embarrass her, so we took some dancing lessons together, just a few hours. It was enough to get me through the wedding party in one piece. Apparently, I was convincing enough.”

Castiel contemplated him then, a mystic smile on his mouth, wariness veiling his features. He looked a little shy.

„Are you sure? I… I don’t wanna bother you, Dean. It’s just… I’ve really been looking forward to this. The teacher is pretty famous and he is supposed to be very good. I wouldn’t wanna miss it. But… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

At that, Dean exhaled a breathy laughter and entered Castiel’s room, kneeling down in front of him – whereupon Castiel’s eyes widened and he tensed up somewhat. With a sudden boost of confidence, Dean placed both his hands on Castiel’s knees and looked up into his face, a winning smile on his lips as their eyes locked.

„I can imagine worse things than dancing with you, Cas. Of course, I’m in.”

Dean smiled when he saw how flustered his closeness made Castiel, how he barely dared to look down into Dean’s eyes. But once he did, he suddenly became all quiet and calm, and a beautiful, honest smile came to Castiel’s kissable lips. He placed his hands on Dean’s, which were still resting on Castiel’s thighs, and squeezed them affirmatively. Now it was Dean’s turn to become a nervous, clumsy mess – he could feel the strength resting in Castiel’s fingers, their warmth, and suddenly, he felt so very near to the other man, was aware of the soft warm breaths he was exhaling. He smelt Castiel’s clean, beguiling scent, and a ball of warmth and heat and electricity jumped up and down in his insides. He looked up into Castiel’s beautiful blue eyes and admired his gorgeous smile, and all he wanted to do at this moment was kiss him.

„Thank you, Dean,” Castiel just said quietly. Dean could just nod. Then he noticed he was nearly hypnotized – and not far away from drooling, actually – so he shrugged it off and grinned cheekily at Castiel.

„Yeah, don’t mention it. We better get dressed up, then, I suppose?”

Castiel nodded and looked at his watch thoughtfully.

„Yes. The course starts at six, and we also have to drive there. So, we better get ready soon.”

Dean struggled to his feet with a groan, wondering what kind of clothes would be appropriate for the occasion.

„What should I wear?” he contemplated aloud, more to himself than actually as a question to Castiel.

„Impress me,” Castiel said with a dark, husky voice. Surprised, Dean turned around to him and regarded him. A wave of heat coursed through his lower abdomen, tingled along his inner thighs and up, up, up, when his and Castiel’s eyes met. Dean could definitely see _want_ there, dark lust, as Castiel’s pupils dilated a little. There was a challenging and mischievous expression in Castiel’s look, and boy, Dean would have loved to explore this notion further… But he just decided it was better to behave now, so he wiggled his eyebrows funnily at Castiel, whereupon the younger man laughed a little. Dean was still grinning when he left Castiel’s room and sought for something nice to wear. Castiel’s words rang in his ears when he rummaged through the wardrobe he had brought to Bobby’s – he had only brought two suits, not really expecting he might actually need them. He had the choice between a simple, black one, and a dark blue, shiny one, which really flattered his physique and clung to his legs, ass and biceps perfectly. He decided for the latter, wanting to show off, keeping the challenging look in Castiel’s eyes in mind. Maybe he really wanted to impress him.

In the end, he picked out a simple, white button-down shirt, the dark blue suit, shiny black leather shoes, and a red bow tie. He quickly jumped under the shower and rubbed all of the day’s dirt away, soaping himself generously. When he had dressed himself, he put a little gel into his hair and spiked it up somewhat. When he estimated himself in the tall mirror in Bobby’s entry hall, he nodded satisfied, thinking he looked quite alright. Bobby stepped out of the kitchen, sipping on a glass of whiskey when he sized Dean up. He wore a skeptic frown and raised his eyebrows at Dean questioningly.

„What’s the occasion? Do you wanna woo somebody?” the old man asked. Dean scoffed a laugh and stole Bobby’s glass out of his hand. He ignored Bobby’s outraged outcry when Dean stole a sip of his whiskey with a broad grin.

„Cas and I are going out dancing,” Dean declared. Bobby looked at him as if he had lost his marbles.

„Sure. Of course, you are,” Bobby muttered in disbelief. Then he returned to nipping at his whiskey, his eyes never leaving Dean as Dean adjusted his red bow-tie a little bit, completely unfazed by Bobby’s scrutinizing looks. They heard steps on the stairs, then.

Dean turned around and watched Castiel coming down the stairs, and it took his breath away. Castiel simply looked stunning, to die for. Dean’s mouth stood a bit agape when he mustered Castiel – he wore black, skin-tight jeans, a baby-blue button-down shirt, and dark gray suspenders. The first buttons of his shirt were undone and revealed some of his tanned skin, and Dean’s mouth was watering. Immediately he had fantasies of shoving the suspenders down Castiel’s shoulders slowly, and then unbuttoning his shirt, button by button…

„Aaron’s really missing out on something,” Dean said to himself as he worshipped the wonderful sight in front of him, not really minding he had said it aloud. Castiel blushed brightly and scratched the back of his head abashedly. Dean could have kissed him right there and then; he was so beautiful and his behavior so endearing.

„Idjit,” he heard Bobby mumble next to him, and this kind of awoke him out of his paralysis. He smiled at Castiel, who returned the smile easily and stopped in front of him.

„Are we ready?” he asked Dean friendly. Dean nodded and grabbed his key cars from the shoe cabinet. Then he took Castiel’s beige trench coat and helped him put it on, revealing the gentleman he actually was. He clearly saw Bobby rolling his eyes at that, but Castiel seemed to like his friendly treatment, so Dean didn’t really mind. They walked to the door, and when Dean held it open for Castiel, Castiel regarded him with a bright smile, his eyes gleaming with humor and zest for life. „You’re a real gentleman, Dean,” he commented, making Dean grin in return.

„Behave, you two!” Bobby exclaimed, just before Dean shut the door.

…

Dean stopped the Impala in front of a fancy looking place, which seemed to be a mixture of a bar and a discotheque. The colorful neon signs above the entry read the word „Second Heaven,” which made Dean frown a little. That was a really odd name. He turned off the Impala’s engine and quickly jogged around the car, opening the door for Castiel. Castiel stepped out of the car and gave Dean a long look, paired with a sly, subtle smile.

„Are you trying to woo me, Dean?” he asked jokingly, as they walked up the discotheque. Dean exhaled a brisk laugh.

„Nah, I’m just being polite, that’s all.”

Loud music was booming out of the place, they could hear the bass even out here on the street. When they stepped inside, they were met with semi-darkness and many flashing and rotating lights. It was terribly loud. Too loud to speak. Dean found the wardrobe and pointed at it to Castiel, so they shrugged out of their coats and handed them over to a nice-looking, blonde lady, who gave them chips in return for their cash. Then Castiel looked around and tried to orientate himself, and his eyes lightened up when he had apparently found what he had been looking for. He just took Dean by the arm and pulled him with him.

They walked into another separate room, which was big enough to host two soccer teams and their families. In this room, the music was quieter, so that one could actually understand each other’s spoken words. There was a dozen of couples there, all conglomerating around one man. So, this was apparently their dancing teacher. Dean frowned when they approached the group and when he scrutinized their teacher. The guy was tiny. Tiny. Like, one and a half heads smaller than Dean. Also, he had a sharp nose, and longish dark blond hair, pompadoured in a ridiculous kind of way. His eyes carried a frisky look, and he sized all men and women up and down lecherously, which made Dean’s hair stand on end somehow. The guy clapped enthusiastically into his hands when he saw Dean and Castiel approaching.

„Ah, tres bien! Bonsoir, mesdames et messieurs! We are complete. Ze two gentlemen may come join us, now. My name is Gabriel, and I am your dancing teacher for ze next two ‘ours,” Gabriel declared. His accent and the harsh pronunciation of the words left no doubt that he was French and that English wasn’t his mother tongue. Dean and Castiel joined the circle of couples around Gabriel, both willing to listen and learn. There was something fascinating about Gabriel’s way of speaking, how passionate he seemed about dancing, and it made Dean listen attentively.

„So, tonight we’re learning about ze Tango, huh? Tango! Zat is _l’ardeur_ , uhm, heat, you would say, it is _la passion_ , two bodies speaking togezer. It is a beautiful dance, no? And I am happy to show you.”

Gabriel had a manner of speaking with his hands, raising his fists into the air when he got excited about dancing, and it made Dean smile stupidly. He shared a meaningful look with Castiel, who had noticed Dean’s skeptic demeanor. Castiel leaned in a little closer to Dean and whispered into his ears „He’s really good, Dean,” whereupon Dean just nodded assured.

Gabriel made the group align in three rows, and soon, they were all warming up along to salsa-like, instrumental music with an upbeat rhythm. Then Gabriel showed them the basic steps of tango – for those, who had never danced it before, and for the others to help them remember. Dean completely focussed on the right steps and coordinating his limbs to the rhythm, and he was pretty decent, he decided. Already thirty minutes had passed, and Dean felt a little sweaty and thirsty. When he looked to his left, he saw Castiel repeating the basic pattern, just like the rest of the group, again and again, concentration veiling his features. Dean almost stopped dancing when he regarded Castiel, because his moves were so lithe, so effortless, it almost looked as if he was floating over the ground, that his feet were swift and barely touching the floor. He simply looked stunning, and he made even the most basic moves appear gracile and beautiful. Before Dean could start drooling or trying to pick up his jaw from the floor, Gabriel turned down the volume of the music and declared they could stop to drink some water. In the corner of the room, there was a table with water bottles and plastic cups, just waiting for the thirsty dancers.

Dean and Castiel joined the others and strolled over and soon gulped down the water gratefully. Dean contemplated Castiel and realized the other man was watching him, too. A soft smile rested on Castiel’s mouth as he looked up into Dean’s eyes, fondness dwelling in his deep blue eyes. His glances slipped right under Dean’s skin, created a tingling sensation within his chest, and he found it difficult to breathe. He felt a little shy when he looked away, incapable of holding Castiel’s penetrating look for too long.

„You’re pretty good at this, Cas,” he commented on the dancing skills Castiel had displayed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel shrug nonchalantly.

„I used to dance a lot as a teenager. My mom insisted on it, said only real men can dance,” Castiel laughed somewhat. „I stopped, though, after she died. Didn’t really feel like it anymore…”

Dean had no time to react to Castiel’s words because Gabriel then announced it was time for the couple dance. Dean exhaled nervously, knowing only too well that he and Castiel would dance as a couple now. He was just as anxious about it as he was thrilled.

„All right, folks! Face ze gentleman or lady, who will be your partner. Ze two gentlemen back zere have to discuss who will dance which part. I know it sounds stupid, but one of you will have to dance ze lady part,” Gabriel explained, a friendly smile on his mouth when he regarded Dean and Castiel. Then Gabriel clapped into his hands twice and excitedly, and everyone got ready to dance together.

Dean bit on his bottom lip when he turned to Castiel, his heart racing in his chest. He found the man was already facing him, his body mirrored to Dean’s. Dean took a step closer to Castiel, following his heart’s desires, his brain out of order at the moment. He smiled coyly at Castiel as he placed a hand on Castiel’s hip, feeling the sharp protruding bone underneath his palm. He stared deeply into Castiel’s eyes, realizing how flustered and agitated his nearness made Castiel. His deep blue eyes fluttered a little and he seemed struck, nervous about Dean suddenly in his personal space.

„Is it okay if I lead?” Dean asked quietly, his voice no more than a low rasp. Castiel was contemplating Dean’s mouth, clinging to his lips as he spoke. Heat spread in Dean’s abdomen when Castiel took a step closer, making their chests nearly touch each other. Castiel lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder, the other came around Dean’s middle and found its goal on the small of his back. Dean felt as if in a dream when he regarded Castiel, their eyes locking as Castiel just nodded and smiled at Dean tenderly. They started dancing together then, and Dean didn’t even have to say anything, Castiel subdued to his lead naturally when he lay a little pressure in his hands and directed Castiel’s body thus. Gabriel gave suggestions to the other couples while the music played in the background. Dean was lost in his own world; he nearly didn’t pay attention to anything going on around them.

All he could see and concentrate on was Castiel. The rotating overhead lights illuminated Castiel’s baby-blue button-down shirt, and the light reflected in Castiel’s eyes and made them glow brightly. Dean snaked his forefinger and thumb under one of Castiel’s dark-gray suspenders, so that he could feel his hips moving under his fingertips even better, raw lust pulsating in his crotch. He watched the effect it had on Castiel, how the other man’s eyes darkened and his breathing stumbled somewhat. Dean let his fingernails delve into the pliant flesh a little, urging himself not to grab Castiel’s hip tightly and pull him close against him. He was suffused with a terrible need for the other man, wanted to devour him right there. It didn’t exactly help him that Castiel’s eyes traveled to his lips repeatedly, perhaps hungering for a kiss just like Dean… or that Castiel’s thumb drew small circles on his back again and again, sending electric, tickling waves up and down Dean’s spine.

Dean led Castiel through their dance skillfully, loving how their bodies reacted to one another, how symbiotic it felt to dance with the other man as their shoes circumvented the other in their dance. He had never danced with a man before, but with Castiel, it seemed completely normal to him, as if they had always done this. He drowned in the depths of Castiel’s blue eyes, thinking about the attentive and soft glance Castiel beheld him with all the time.

For a moment, Dean wondered how Castiel had even ended up with someone like Aaron, and why Aaron hadn’t appreciated Castiel for who he really was, how he had even dared to raise a fist against Castiel. How could one beat up someone so capable, so beautiful? Castiel was super clever; he was a religious man, and a man with morals. He could cook, he could dance, he could play the piano, and he was outrageously skilled regarding chess, poker, and other games. He was someone one could talk with for hours, someone with a functioning, beautiful brain, and Dean loved to converse with him and spend time with him. And on top of all of that, he was breathtakingly handsome, just gorgeous from head to toe, so that Dean wanted to fall down on his knees and worship Castiel and say prayers to him. And after all the pain he had experienced in his life, Castiel wasn’t bitter, just docile and gentle and so damn loveable… It nearly took Dean’s breath away the moment he realized what he was thinking when he caught up with his train of thoughts. He suddenly understood why he was thinking in this way, what his heart was telling him. _He was in love with Castiel._ Utterly, stupidly in love with him. He longed to wrap him up in his arms now and hold him tightly, only to kiss him again and again, confessing his affection for him with softly whispered words...

„Ah, not bad, not bad,” Gabriel said. Dean startled out of his thoughts and stopped immediately. Where the hell had Gabriel come from? Dean frowned at him, absolutely unhappy that Gabriel disturbed his and Castiel’s intimate togetherness. They stopped dancing when Gabriel gently lay a hand on Dean’s upper arm. _Not bad? They had been frigging awesome_ , Dean thought grumpily.

„Pardon, gentlemen,” Gabriel said, a suave smile on his lips as he alternated between looking at Dean and Castiel. „You look good togezer, qui, but it is very stiff. Very formal. It is not what _Tango_ is about,” Gabriel explained patiently.

„Clearly, your ‘usband wants to lead you, but you’re not letting him, not completely. Somezing is ‘olding you back,” he said then to Castiel admonishingly. _Husband._ Dean didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or whether to laugh out loud – he just had a queasy feeling in his stomach, like a million butterflies flying through his innards in a very tickling way, when he listened to Gabriel calling him Castiel’s husband. It was kind of absurd. They weren’t even a thing! But it made Dean feel awfully excited, and he felt like on top of the world to be considered Castiel’s husband. He managed to stifle a laugh, though, and regarded Castiel with a friendly smile, who just stared at him wide-eyed and obviously totally confused, like a deer caught in the headlights. It was oddly adorable, and Dean didn’t know how, but he still managed not to laugh. Suddenly, the laughter, however, was forgotten, when Gabriel continued with his tirade.

„Tango is about two bodies speaking togezer. It is like a _seduction_. You need to feel the ozer’s movements! And for zat, you two need to dance closer. Like zis!”

And then, Gabriel manhandled Dean and Castiel and made them both take one or two steps closer, and closer, and – boom – at once, they were standing super close to one another. There was only a hand’s width space between them. Dean could only look down into Castiel’s questioning, big eyes, how they looked up to him as if he was in a trance. Dean then smiled a little at him, in a soothing way, he hoped, when Gabriel just took control over their hands and made Castiel lay his hand into Dean’s outstretched palm. It was like an electric shock when their fingers intertwined automatically, fitting together perfectly, as if they had always done this.

„Voila, try again!” Gabriel said, sounding awfully satisfied with himself. The fool didn’t know what he had done, what he was doing to Dean. He had given him Castiel basically served on a silver plate… Dean could smell Castiel’s spicy and lemony cologne, and it filled up his lungs in a reviving, yet bewitching way, made his knees weak. He could feel his hot, moist breaths fanning against his face. It was dizzying. He felt a little lightheaded. Castiel’s eyes wandered over Dean’s face, studied his mouth in detail, then they got stuck on Dean’s eyes. Dean started dancing then, and Castiel followed his lead. Dean could immediately feel the difference Gabriel had talked about. He and Castiel were almost chest to chest, their shirts were nearly brushing. With every motion, he could feel the smooth sway of Castiel’s pelvis, how it came closer and then fled from Dean, as if they were constantly playing hide and seek with each other. It really was like a seduction. It drove Dean mad. How easily he could have seized Castiel vigorously now, closer to his body, so that there was no millimeter space between them?

Their faces were only a few inches apart while Dean guided them through their dance, his eyes always focussed on Castiel’s. He saw the littlest smile then on Castiel’s kissable, soft pink lips, and Dean was stupidly happy. He was glad Castiel was having a good time. Then the look in Castiel’s eyes changed, his pupils dilated, and his lids became hooded with lust. He looked awfully sensual. There was an unquenchable fire burning in his eyes, devouring Dean wholly, requesting more from him. Dean gulped nervously, not sure whether he could take that last one more step towards Castiel, whether he could give him what he requested. He then pressed Castiel’s hand, which lay in his, by instinct and felt the pressure returned, once and firmly, like a confirmation of his most secret assumptions. He moved even a little closer as he held Castiel’s glance, hoping he could convey everything he was thinking and feeling with his meaningful looks. Castiel sighed softly and tilted his head somewhat, surrendering to Dean completely, beautifully. Dean watched him, shocked and excited, how his lids slowly fell shut, how Castiel’s body became lax in their dance. How his slightly opened mouth came nearer, hungering for him. Dean felt nearly comatose, he was so hypnotized. He was just a nanosecond away from bending his head down and capturing Castiel’s lips with his. And Castiel’s mouth came closer, closer…

„All right! Let’s have a little break!” Gabriel exclaimed. At once, Dean and Castiel stopped dancing. Castiel opened his eyes again, confusion was written all over his face. He smiled coyly at Dean, who still couldn’t understand how they had almost kissed just a second ago, and why this wasn’t happening right now. Damn it. Their faces were still so close… Castiel let go of his hand then. He took a little step back from Dean, and Dean immediately missed his heat, the warmth of his body so close to his. When their eyes met again, Dean recognized uncertainty in Castiel’s eyes, maybe even fear. However, Castiel’s smile was docile, and he touched Dean’s shoulder amicably and squeezed it.

„You can already go to the bar, I need to use the restroom,” Castiel said with a wink. Dean just nodded, at a loss for words, and watched Castiel disappear down the hall. What the hell had just happened? Dean was wearing a deep frown when he walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. He sat down on a barstool and wondered whether he had misread the signs he thought Castiel had given him. He had wanted to kiss Dean, hadn’t he? Or did Dean just imagine it? Was he already so desperately lonely that he was reading more into this than what was actually taking place? He bit on his lower lip absentmindedly, chewing a little on his lip as he cradled the cool bottle of beer in his hands. He then took a gulp and had only just swallowed it, when Gabriel sat down next to him, ordering a gin tonic.

Dean turned around to him and greeted him with a friendly smile and a nod. Gabriel then clinked his glass with Dean’s bottle and smiled diabolically at him. He leaned a little closer to Dean in a conspiratorial way, arousing Dean’s interest.

„You and your ‘usband make a lovely couple. You ‘ave to tell me ‘ow you met,” Gabriel said eagerly. There was a playful twinkle glowing in his earthly brown eyes. Dean harrumphed and then sighed extensively. Great. He better cleared up this misunderstanding before Castiel came back. If Dean had been mistaken about Castiel’s motives, he really didn’t want Gabriel rubbing it all in the dude’s face that Gabriel thought they were a thing. After his breakup with Aaron, Castiel probably really didn’t need this kind of conversation.

„About that,” Dean said. „Cas and I aren’t really husbands. Actually, we’re just friends.”

„Aahhh, no, no, no,” Gabriel replied admonishingly, raising a reproachful forefinger at Dean, which almost made Dean laugh and choke on his beer. „I don’t believe you. I know lovers when I see zem. Ze body does not lie! It is very clear zat you two have somezing going on. I can tell by your body language. And yes, lover boy, he wants you, too.”

There they were again: the millions of crawly butterflies flying through his stomach, their wings tickling Dean’s organs. A soft smile grew on Dean’s mouth. He didn’t know if Gabriel was right, of course, but just the idea… that Castiel truly wanted him, maybe even felt something romantically for Dean… It made him so happy, he felt indeed blessed. He basked in the glorious feeling for a moment, focused on how good it felt that someone might be able to love him again… He didn’t even dare to hope what Gabriel said was true. He just drank his beer in brooding silence, desperately trying to conquer the growing hope within him.

The tingly sensation didn’t pass that whole evening. Dean’s heart was all over the place – racing and stumbling and stopping in turns. When he and Castiel continued dancing and when they looked into each other’s eyes all the time, his heart decided to riot and pound against his chest. His fingers were constantly twitching, wanted to grab Castiel and touch him. When Castiel’s hand glided up and down Dean’s back constantly, tenderly stroking up and down his suit jacket, Dean could sense his heart was about to explode with joy, while his hands became sweaty, and the fire in lower abdomen got hotter and hotter. He didn’t really know how he survived this evening without ever once trying to kiss Castiel or grab him by the hips and push him against the nearest wall to ravage his body. Dean’s composure was really astonishing this night, it even surprised him.

After two hours, the course was coming to an end. All attendees were a little sweaty by now, but the exhausted smiles and grins on their faces were nothing but joyful. Gabriel received a long round of applause and bowed down to the group. Then some of the group stayed for drinks at the bar, while others took their leave and got their coats from the wardrobe. Castiel said he wanted to leave as well because the day had been very long for him and he was getting tired. Dean didn’t mind, thinking he could fall asleep pretty soon, too. When they turned around to go, he caught Gabriel’s eyes looking at them – and Gabriel winked at him knowingly, making Dean smirk to himself when they left the place. 

…

The drive back home was plunged into welcome laid-back silence, as Dean steered the Impala through the night. The car radio was quietly playing relaxing blues songs. At a red traffic light, Dean risked a side glance to Castiel - he spotted the lingering, little smile on his mouth, the joyful gleam in his eyes brightly reflected by the streetlamps. He was content, even happy, it seemed. Dean was stunned about the transformation Castiel had undergone in just a few weeks – from a devastated, beaten-up survivor of an abusive relationship, to such a tranquil and blissful man, who could smile again and enjoy the little things in life. It made Dean unspeakably happy to see Castiel like this – carefree, unburdened. Castiel noticed his glance and their eyes met, whereupon they both just smiled carefully. The traffic light turned green and Dean put the car into first gear and drove off.

„Funny that Gabriel called us husbands, right?” Castiel laughed out of the blue. Dean chuckled.

„Yeah, that was a little bit weird,” he admitted.

„Well, I _do_ want to get married someday. Call me naïve or stupidly romantic, but I like the idea of sticking together, for better or for worse, to never give up on each other… I wanna be with someone, who I can share the rest of my life with,” Castiel said dreamily, his voice getting quieter. Dean felt a little choked with emotion, and his throat constricted with a bittersweet agony, because Castiel had just voiced what Dean had always wanted – to have someone at his side, who would never leave him, who would never give up on him and love him through all the coming years. He smiled wistfully, knowing how hard and rare it was to find someone like that.

„It's not stupid, Cas. It’s beautiful. You know, I want that too, someday. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you that you’ll find that certain somebody and that you’ll be happily married,” he then said. Castiel contemplated him for a moment then, and Dean felt his piercing look, his eyes practically staring holes into his body. When he turned his head to quickly glance at Castiel, he caught an enigmatic smile on Castiel’s lips, and a terribly fond expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

„That’s really sweet of you, Dean. Thank you,” Castiel rasped. Dean shrugged his shoulders.

„What? You deserve it. After having such bad luck with Aaron, you deserve someone who really loves you, you know. Urgh, you should totally meet Sam and Jess someday, talking about happily married. The two of them are so annoyingly cute together…,” Dean laughed. For the rest of the way home, they were talking about Sam and Jess, and Dean told Cas of Jess’ pregnancy and that he was going to be an uncle soon. There was a deeply moved expression on Castiel’s features when Dean told him of the plan they had – all of them moving to Sioux Falls soon, to be together as a family again and to support Bobby more. Dean wondered about Castiel’s mien, because it looked torn between pain and joy. Then Dean remembered that Castiel didn’t have any family, that he hadn’t had any family ever since his mother had died.

„That sounds amazing. I think you will be happy here, Dean, with Bobby, Sam and Jess and their little daughter around,” Cas said. Dean nodded, frowning. Yeah, he would be happy here – after all he had been through, he hoped he could finally be at peace and arrive at the place where he belonged.

…

When they came to Bobby’s house at last, all the lights were out – apparently, Bobby was already asleep. They crept into the house silently and ascended the stairs, not turning on the lights. Dean chuckled a little when Castiel tripped over a stair tread, holding on to the banister and nearly causing them both to fall down the stairs. He was still grinning when they had made it upstairs in one piece. They halted in front of Dean’s room. Castiel turned around to face him. His eyes were glistening wondrously in the white moonlight, appearing like invaluable gems to Dean.

„Thank you for tonight, Dean. I had a wonderful time,” Castiel said with a fond smile. Dean grinned.

„The pleasure was all mine, buddy.”

Dean lost his grin quickly, though, when he watched Castiel taking a step closer and coming into his personal space. He felt as if glued to the spot, utterly paralyzed, when Castiel gently placed a sweet, innocent kiss on his cheek – his lips were smooth and warm and dry as they lingered on Dean’s cheek. Dean’s heart skipped a beat, then rioted enthralled in his chest. His whole body was antsy. He felt awfully moved, knew that this kiss was more to them than just a friendly kiss, that there was meaning behind it. He gulped down the lump forming in his throat and faked a smile when Castiel let go and pulled back.

„Night, Cas,” he said, trying to compose himself before he was getting a panic attack. Dean turned around and went into his room, closing the door behind him, shying away from Castiel. He leaned against the door, throwing his head back, and loosened his tie. Only then he felt as if he could breathe again.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so soon no more dancing around one another thehe but the real deal... I just couldn't resist having them dancing together and "wasting" an entire chapter on it. Haha.


	10. There are idjits everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, a short chapter coming your way... just thought it would be fun to hear Bobby's point of view on our two little lovebirds. Next update will be this Friday or Saturday, and if you don't like the said coming chapter on Friday or Saturday, we can't be friends anymore. Lol. Nah, seriously. You got a treat coming hehe... But first, let's hear our grumpy old man...

**Chapter 10 – There are idjits everywhere**

Dean Winchester had always been an idjit. That much Bobby Singer knew with certainty. Ever since John Winchester had introduced his boys to him, Bobby had seen that certain _glint_ in Dean’s eyes – a glint of mischief, bravado and bravery – a very stupid mixture of nature, by the way. He had been proven right many, many times; for example, when little Dean had wanted to boast in front of Sammy and race down a hill with his bike, only to sprain his ankle. Or when teenager Dean and teenager Sam had once visited Bobby, both badly beaten up, and Dean had told him with a broad grin that they had won against five other douchebags, whereupon Bobby could only sigh and shake his head. Idjit. Dean had always been an idjit. But what always made up for it, was Dean’s big heart, and how loyal and sincere the guy was. Dean was never playing a charade or hiding who he truly was. You always knew how things stood with Dean.

Except for these days. These days, Bobby was pretty sure Dean was _badly_ trying to hide what was going on inside of him concerning Castiel. Bobby wasn’t born yesterday and it took a whole lot more to fool him – and since Dean wasn’t someone who lied, he therefore sucked at lying, and the facts were pretty much all on the table. Dean didn’t even have to tell Bobby, Bobby _knew._ Something was going on between the two young men. Bobby had eyes, and he could put one and one together.

It had started the night Castiel had come to Bobby’s place, all shellacked by this sonofabitch Aaron – Bobby hadn’t missed the shocked look Castiel had beheld Dean with when they had seen each other for the first time. As if he knew Dean. It was as if Castiel had seen a ghost, and Bobby had understood back then that the two of them went a long way back; a history Bobby didn’t know anything about, and which neither of them confessed to and remained resolutely silent about. Then there were the many intimate conversations the two of them had – there was nothing unusual about two guys at the same age talking with one another plenty and well, they just seemed to click with one another. But then Bobby had seen their body language, so attuned to each other, mirroring gestures and miens… and the way they had looked at each other with sappy smiles and flashing eyes… it reminded him of the way Karen had looked at him when they had fallen in love. Bobby had paid attention ever since the suspicion had come to his mind that there might be something going on between Dean and Cas.

And ever since he was watching out for the signs, Dean and Cas were handing him evidence on a silver platter – _All. The. Frigging. Time._ Cooking together, making music together, Dean singing love songs to Castiel with his guitar at their barbecue, the two of them going out to dance frigging _tango_ with each other… By now, Bobby was counting the hours and days until the two of them finally and officially became a thing, because he was slowly but surely losing his nerves. They were driving him insane, how they were dancing around one another all the time, but neither of them manning up and confessing their feelings for the other. Also, back to the topic of Dean Winchester being a bad liar, and a bad actor on top of that, Bobby couldn’t stand one more day of Dean trying desperately to play it cool and not let his feelings for Cas show. The second-hand embarrassment made Bobby fidgety and even grumpier than usual.

All these thoughts ran through Bobby’s head this forenoon, as he and Dean were just sitting in the kitchen and sipping their coffee. Castiel had left the house to do some grocery shopping, happily declining every help either Dean or Bobby had tried to offer. Bobby read the newspaper, whereas Dean continued with his struggle on Tolstoy’s „War and Peace,” wearing an unhappy frown as he flipped the pages.

„Man,” Dean muttered miserably, „that guy is really overrated.”

Bobby arched his eyebrows and contemplated Dean with a skeptic look.

„Then why the hell are you still reading the book if you don’t like it?”

Dean raised an admonishing forefinger at Bobby and grinned from ear to ear. A proud glimmer stood in his sparkling green eyes. Bobby knew something stupid would soon fall out of his mouth, and he was proven right a second later.

„I can only complain once I read the whole thing, Bobby. I endure even bad literature; it means I have endurance.”

Bobby rolled his eyes.

„No, it just means you’re an idjit.”

They stopped their banter, which was just gaining speed, when Castiel opened the front door and walked into the kitchen with two big shopping bags full of groceries. He greeted them with a nod and put the bags down on the kitchen counter, huffing and puffing. Bobby got up and frowned at all the stuff Castiel had bought.

„Is an apocalypse coming, or were there just many special offers?” he asked wide-eyed, making Castiel grin.

„Don’t worry, it’s more or less just tons of veggies and long-lasting grains and so on. Sit down and drink your coffee, I’ll do the unpacking. You deserve some rest, Bobby,” Castiel said. Bobby was confused. Had he gotten old? Why were the two of them treating him like a tottery old man all the time? Not that he didn’t enjoy being indulged for a change; that hadn’t happened ever since Karen had died. So, with a sigh, he sat down again and sullenly beheld Castiel doing all the work. Once they started mashing up all his meals and made him wear diapers, he would complain, but until then, he was good.

„There’s coffee if you want some. It’s good, Dean made it,” he offered. Castiel’s eyes fled to Dean, and the two were smiling softly at each other, making Bobby want to tear his hair out. Castiel winked at Dean and stopped to get himself a cup of steaming hot coffee.

„That means it’s strong, then, just the way I like it,” Castiel murmured appreciatively as he poured himself a cup of the black beverage. Inwardly, Bobby rolled his eyes, wondering if Dean had made the coffee to Castiel’s liking on purpose. Yeah, he probably had. For a while, busy silence filled up the kitchen, of Castiel unpacking and stowing the groceries away, and Dean and Bobby reading.

„I brought you your favorite peanut butter, Dean. The crunchy one, with the little peanut wearing a cowboy hat,“ Castiel said with laughter as clear as a bell, and turned around to Dean, waving the jar of peanut butter in one hand. Bobby watched them, how Dean’s eyes lit up and how he looked at Castiel as if the guy had hung the moon for him. Damn it, Bobby thought astonished, Dean Winchester had really fallen head over heels in love with Castiel.

„Thanks, Cas, that’s awesome,” Dean said breathlessly. And then Bobby saw a faint blush spreading all over Castiel’s face, from his neck up to his cheeks and ears, making him look as if he was steaming. Castiel turned around again and put the peanut butter away, his moves all jittery and clumsy. Bobby shook his head in disbelief, not sure if he could stand this circus for even one more day. There were idjits everywhere. Unluckily, they were living with him under the same roof. It was cute and loveable, but unnerving at the same time. Bobby decided to address the topic rather sooner than later, or he would lose his mind. When Castiel had gone upstairs to refresh himself, Bobby made use of the opportunity to talk with Dean in private. He leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, studying Dean’s startled features as their eyes met.

„Something you wanna tell me, Dean?” he asked sternly.

„About what?” Dean asked in return, playing as if he was taken aback. Bad actor, Bobby thought, reading the feigned surprise in Dean’s eyes.

„About you and Cas, for example? What’s going on between you two?”

Dean now looked as if he had been caught in the act. His eyes were shying away from Bobby’s taxing glare, suddenly finding interest in the kitchen furniture, the wall, the lamp, everything but Bobby sitting opposite to him. Dean shrugged his shoulders and smiled coyly.

„What? Nothing! Why are you even thinking-?”

„Dean,” Bobby sighed unnerved, not in the mood for playing games, „I have eyes, okay? Don’t you think I pick up a scent when I’ve got you two around me all day for weeks? You don’t have to tell me anything, son, but I want you to know that it’s okay, and I’m here if you wanna talk. That’s all.”

Now Dean was as red as a beet, playing with a loose thread of his flannel nervously. He bit on his bottom lip as if he was fighting an inner struggle. Bobby waited for the mature part of Dean to win this fight, knowing perfectly well how the odds stood for this to happen.

„Still don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yup, the childish part had gained the upper hand. Typical.

„Okay, _idjit_. Pretend all you want. But I’ve seen the effect Castiel has had on you. I would like to assume it’s my pleasant company, which makes you smile so stupidly happy these days, but I’m guessing Castiel is to blame, because you’re all lovey-dovey and smiley whenever you’re around him. And so is he, Dean. You two work, I don’t know why, but you do. You bring out the best in each other. And I haven’t seen you so happy in a long time… I’m just thinking it would be a shame to let all of that go again. I’d like to see you both happy again, after all you’ve been through.”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, and a wave of pain washed over him, played on his clean-cut features. When he opened his eyes again, there was a fierce notion glimmering in the green of his irises, an unquenchable fire. The next time Dean spoke, it was under his breath, on the quiet, only for Bobby to hear.

„There’s something about him, Bobby. I really like the guy. And you’re right, he makes me happy. I haven’t felt this way ever since I’ve been together with Lisa. But Sammy warned me not to go down that road, because Cas has been through some tough shit, and I don’t wanna push him. And honestly, I’m not even sure if I’m ready to jump back in that saddle…”

Bobby was overjoyed when Dean finally opened up to him, removing the seals from his soul. Simultaneously he felt sorry for Dean, because he could imagine the weight of the inner conflict he had going on. He wished it was all that easy that he could tell Dean to just give it a go and confess his feelings for Castiel… but then again, he also knew Sam had a point there. Castiel was truly burdened with the abusive relationship he had left behind not even a month ago, and it might have been way too early for him and Dean to get involved with each other. Bobby reached out a hand over the table and placed it on Dean’s, squeezing his hand sympathetically. He smiled sadly at Dean and shrugged his shoulders.

„Well, I believe Sam’s got a point there, Dean. Cas might need a whole lot of time to heal from what he’s been through… but when it comes to you, son, I think you’re just full of crap. I think you’re hiding behind nothing but fear… but you can’t keep hiding forever, Dean. Yeah, you got hurt pretty good… but if you never leave that behind you, you’ll be a lonesome son of a bitch just like me. And, let’s be real here, one loner in the family is enough. So… if it’s as fate willed, I think you two will stop dancing around one another sooner or later and quit your goddamn whining.”

Stunned about Bobby’s blunt candidness, Dean gaped at him, his jaw dropped. But then, a slow smile crept over his mouth, and a spirited light started glowing in his eyes. He pressed Bobby’s hand gratefully.

TO BE CONTINUED


	11. As fate willed

**Chapter 11 – As fate willed**

Dean stood in Bobby’s quiet kitchen, his hands lying idly on the counter. Bobby had gone out for tonight to meet up with his old friend Rufus, to have a drink or two. Bobby had invited him to come along, but Dean had declined, wanting Bobby to have some well-deserved time to himself and his friend. Also, Dean hadn’t really felt like going out tonight. His mind was heavy with thoughts, thoughts he meant to order and understand. He kept thinking about the little heart-to-heart he and Bobby had had today, whether the time was ready to make a move on Castiel and whether Dean was ready for something new…Maybe Bobby was right. He couldn’t hide behind his fear of getting hurt again forever. His mood was broody – in addition to that, the house seemed terribly confining to him. He needed space to breathe, space to think clearly.

Through the kitchen window, he watched the sun hovering above the horizon, about to descend fully – the sky was a beautiful tangerine havoc, a massacre of sanguine, violet, and blue. Pale stars were twinkling far above, mystical and inexplicable. Dean felt a sudden urge to leave the house and breathe in the spicy air of the summer evening. A heavy sigh left his mouth, a strange tension weighed heavy on his heart.

He was about to make ready to leave the house, a vague plan forming in his head when suddenly he heard soft, barefooted steps behind him. He turned around to see Castiel leaning against the doorframe – he was indeed barefoot. He was wearing frayed, loose-fitting jeans, which clung seductively low to his protruding sharp hip bones. An old washed-out black band T-shirt completed his laid-back look and fit his upper body like a second skin. There was a serene soft smile on his kissable mouth, and a tenderness gleamed in his eyes so that Dean felt all fuzzy and wistful at the same time. He sucked in Castiel’s appearance with pleasure. He looked simply gorgeous. His hair was a little disheveled as if he had just woken up, and it added an adorable cuteness to him.

„Hey Dean,” he greeted him with a calm voice, „what’s up?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

„Not much. Bobby’s in town meeting an old friend of his. I was just thinking about going out to watch the stars and drink a beer or two. There’s a wild meadow behind Bobby’s property with a little river next to it. Do you wanna join me?” Dean asked, having uttered the words before he could shy away from his suggestion or overthink it. The fondness in Castiel’s deep blue eyes only increased then as he beheld Dean contemplatively, as if he was seeing right into his heart, and Dean had to look away, he couldn’t stand it. Castiel approached him and walked to the fridge, opened it, and got two beer bottles out. He took the bottle opener from the counter and grinned at Dean, his eyes brimming over with joy. A beautiful blush tinged Castiel’s cheeks when his and Dean’s eyes locked.

„Sure, let’s go.”

Dean just nodded dumbly, stupefied with the raw craving for Castiel he was suffused with; he still couldn’t understand how a man could be so breathtakingly handsome. He felt like a robot when he snatched a blanket from the nearby sofa and opened the back door, not allowing himself to think, to feel, what Castiel already meant to him, what his heart and body were screaming at him constantly. Dean was afraid, simply afraid, to ever let himself get so vulnerable again. After Lisa… He exhaled extensively, fighting against the uprising commotion, as he stepped outside.

Indeed, the air was spicy and warm, and it filled his lungs and calmed him somewhat. The ground underneath his bare feet was dry and pebbly. He and Castiel walked side by side in a peaceful, silent understanding. Dean looked around, admiring the calm and fair countryside, as evening descended upon it. The fields were lush and seemingly endless, and a soft breeze stroked through the trees, their boughs swaying lightly as Dean and Castiel passed them by. They came to the end of Bobby’s property, and then they walked through waist-high, dark green grasses for a little while. Crickets were chirping somewhere unseen; a few birds twittered and greeted the imminent nightfall. Dean dared a side glance to Castiel, loving his gorgeous features in the weakening daylight; his fingers were twitching with the yearning to hold his hand, he longed to kiss him and hold him in his arms – yet he didn’t dare, didn’t even know if he was allowed to feel this way. Castiel noticed Dean looking at him, and he regarded him with a long glance as well while they continued walking, a little smile playing on his mouth all the while. His confidence was nothing but sexy to Dean, how he held Dean’s eyes with his own, almost as if he was challenging him.

When they had left the grasses behind them and reached the widespread meadow, they stopped, and Dean unfolded the blanket. They sat down on it, making themselves comfortable. They sipped on their beers and drank every now and then, while they watched the world around them becoming darker and darker. Dean was strangely placid now – as if all the warring and confusing thoughts had died away, as if they had never mattered in the first place. Maybe it was because he was out in the open, underneath a starry firmament and surrounded by the sleeping landscape; maybe it was because of Castiel’s soothing company and the knowledge that they could share this moment without having to talk about it.

Again, he dared to look at Castiel, and this time, he felt bold, unwilling to hide any longer what was going on inside of him. Castiel returned his look, and from the way he inhaled shakily the longer Dean looked at him, his look heavy with meaning, Dean understood Castiel read his innermost thoughts easily. He knew what Dean meant without any word being spoken. Dean felt his heart race in his chest, pounding against his ribs vigorously, as his hand reached out for Castiel’s, which lay idly on the blanket. He covered it with his own, feeling the hot and dry skin underneath his. Castiel’s lids fluttered a little and his eyes became hazy, overwhelmed with passion. His lips parted somewhat as Dean moved closer, killing any idea of space between their bodies, as they sat hip to hip. He could inhale Castiel’s breaths, felt them fan against his mouth warm and wet, they were suddenly so close. He gulped thickly, fought against the nervousness. His rhyme and reason bid goodbye to him when he saw the plain lust veiling Castiel’s features beautifully.

Castiel examined his face attentively, his lids hooded with unhidden desire, a dark light glowing in his dilated pupils. Dean felt thunderbolts shoot through his innards, as he realized that Castiel wanted him, that he was hungering for Dean in the same frantic way that Dean was hungering for him. Castiel bit on his bottom lip, obviously torn in two. Then he brought one hand up to Dean’s cheek, framing his face. There was a tempting pressure in Castiel’s fingers as he moved Dean’s face even closer to his own; it was a pressure Dean couldn’t resist, which made him all weak and hot inside. He let it happen as he watched Castiel shutting his lids, and his own lids fell close, too, when Castiel pulled him closer and closer and closer. Then he felt the faintest idea of a kiss on his mouth. Just a brush of dry, soft and beer-cooled lips against his. A delicate shudder ran down Dean’s back, made his skin prickle electrically. His own words resonated in his head, words he had spoken a while ago, and suddenly, Castiel’s coy kiss carried so much more meaning, became more than just a kiss, and it simply overwhelmed Dean.

_Next time you kiss me, you better know what you’re doing. You better make it count for something._

Finally, Castiel had made a decision. Then Dean was being kissed, again and again, just a little bit more than a peck, and the smoothness of Castiel’s lips, paired with the clever pressure they were exerting, it drove Dean completely mad, he couldn’t get enough of it. In an instant, he cozied up to Castiel and replied to his exquisite kisses, opening his mouth to kiss Castiel back with all he had, and he turned their kisses into long and passionate ones, refusing to let go of Castiel’s mouth ever again. He felt Castiel tense up with desire, moaning quietly into their kisses, as Dean took over the lead. His hands came up to touch Castiel’s face, and Dean tilted Castiel’s head with a little force, as he parted Castiel’s mouth with his tongue, sliding inside slowly and claiming him, abandoning all clear thoughts.

Then there were hands on his shirt, fumbling with it restlessly, as Castiel replied to the kiss eagerly. Their tongues slid together sensually, and Dean could have done nothing else for the rest of his life than kiss Castiel. He was a damn good kisser, and his kisses created goosebumps all over Dean’s whole body, created hot waves of lust pulsing through his insides. He sighed agitatedly when Castiel’s clever fingers playfully sneaked under his shirt and stroked along his warm skin. Castiel’s palms glided over his pecs, stroked up to his collarbones, and Dean got the hint as his shirt got in the way. He quickly disentangled from Castiel, so that he could get rid of his shirt. As he did so, he was taken aback by the blazing fire in Castiel’s eyes, how heated his face looked, how plump and red his lips had become due to their kisses. As if in trance, Dean pulled his shirt over his head, almost incapable of tearing his eyes away from him. He looked so tempting, so attractive…

When Dean had taken his shirt off, he noticed Castiel’s eyes traveling all over his torso, taking in Dean’s muscled body, seemingly finding pleasure in what he was seeing. Dean had always been slender, but ever since he had joined the police, he had gotten more muscles he was kind of proud of. Dean had trouble breathing when he watched Castiel shedding his shirt as well, without much ado. He displayed a lean upper body with muscled arms and a well-defined chest. Dean found his mouth was watering at the given sight. He barely realized what he was doing, when his right hand reached out for Castiel automatically, carefully touching his chest, as if he was something holy, something Dean wasn’t allowed to touch. Their eyes met. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Castiel raising a hand, and it came down on Dean’s while they still looked at each other, clearly pressing Dean’s hand against Castiel’s chest. He gave Dean permission wordlessly, even urged him to go on. Then Castiel’s lids fluttered shut, and yearning was written all over his features when he leaned in for another kiss. Quickly Dean leaned in as well and captured Castiel’s lips with his, kissing him with an urgency that spoke volumes. He hadn’t been together with another person ever since… 

All his thoughts vanished into thin air when he felt Castiel’s fingers gliding through his hair, fisting the strands with subtle pressure as he steered Dean through their frantic kisses. A maelstrom was forming in Dean’s head, the more he lost himself in Castiel’s kisses, feeling his touches on his body. He was quickly losing control, and the world was spinning madly, as he kissed Castiel again and again, as if this was the only thing on earth with meaning.

Then Castiel blindly crawled into Dean’s lap and threw his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean felt his weight on top of him, and it felt so good, it elicited one moan after the other from him. He said goodbye to the attempt of rationality, he said goodbye to the idea of controlling this – instead, he let his hands grope Castiel, feeling and understanding the way his body was formed with growing arousal. Castiel’s skin was so hot, so smooth, when Dean’s fingers glided over it. Their mouths separated for a moment; they were panting breathlessly as Castiel looked down into Dean’s eyes with a meaningful look, his pupils dilated, his mouth half agape. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had been so aroused, when he had hungered for someone so strongly. He felt Castiel’s arms around his neck, how his fingernails dug into Dean’s shoulder blades desperately as he started rolling his hips. Dean felt the heat in his cheeks as he sensed his erection pressing against Castiel’s clothed ass, how the younger man moved his hips seductively alongside his dick. He was probably feeling Dean, how hard he already was. From the way Castiel bit on his bottom lip and moaned darkly, still staring into Dean’s eyes, Dean was certain he was feeling it, and that he was enjoying it.

His hands created a life of their own when they stroked Castiel’s moving hips absentmindedly, loving the feel of Castiel’s skin and the movement of his body. Then Dean succumbed to his appetite, and he allowed himself to touch Castiel’s ass, gripping it with both his hands and squeezing it a little. He pulled him closer to his lap, gulped thickly when he watched the effect it had on Castiel. Castiel threw his head back, proffering a sinewy delicate throat to Dean. He was moaning lowly while Dean massaged his ass through his jeans, and Dean felt how he dug his fingernails deeper into Dean’s nape. Dean started showering Castiel’s throat with airy kisses, inhaling his lemony scent deeply, feeling how it blossomed in his lungs. He realized Castiel then tilted his head and framed Dean’s with his hands; he placed gentle kisses on Dean’s temple, on his forehead, even on the tip of his nose, and the fondness of his kisses nearly killed Dean with affection, cut right through his heart. Damn, he wanted this. But he was fearing for the integrity of his heart. Castiel already meant too much to him, and if they overstepped this invisible line now…

He placed his forehead on Castiel’s shoulder and closed his eyes, willing the dizziness away.

„I… I don’t have anything with me,” he said quietly, hoping Castiel understood what he meant. He heard Castiel’s smile, even without seeing it. There were slender hands in his hair, stroking along his nape, playing with a few strands mindlessly. Dean studied the feeling of happiness growing within him. He hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time. He leaned into the soft, understanding touches of Castiel’s hand, allowed himself to be taken care of, to let somebody make him feel good again.

„I came prepared,” Castiel said with a dark, deadpan voice, and it made Dean laugh and look at Castiel.

„What do you mean?” he asked stupidly. And then he watched Castiel fumbling with the contents of his jeans pocket, getting out a wrapped condom and a small bottle of lube. He just couldn’t believe it. He must have looked super dumbfounded and stupid, because then Castiel was chuckling, his voice cutting through the oncoming night. Their eyes met, and Dean marveled at the mirthful gleam in Castiel’s blue irises, how a lopsided smile came to life on his kiss-wet mouth. From underneath his lashes, he sheepishly beheld Dean. His hands stroked along Dean’s upper body repeatedly, indulging him with fine caresses, which made Dean’s skin crawl electrically.

„I’ve wanted this, Dean. I hoped you would, too,” Castiel whispered. Dean just nodded, baffled how this evening was turning out. He couldn’t stifle his blissed-out smile when Castiel took this as an invitation to kiss him again – he clung to his lips and kissed him deeper, loving how Castiel became lax in his arms, how he was yielding to Dean’s lead effortlessly. It felt as if they belonged together, as if they had always done this. A strange, insatiable hunger overwhelmed Dean then – with a swift move of his hands, back, and hips, he turned them, so that Castiel was sprawled out underneath them. Their bare bellies were touching, and it was heavenly to feel Castiel’s skin against his. The vertigo was returning to Dean, but paired with it came a ravenous appetite he could only still with kissing and touching Castiel.

It seemed like a dream to Dean, then, when he watched his fingers undoing Castiel’s jeans and undressing the man fully. He in return watched as Castiel did the same to him, his face a wondrous mixture of desire and beautiful melancholy. It was easy then, when their naked bodies touched completely, to let go. It felt natural, stimulating, incredible, to share this with Castiel. Dean hadn’t even fully realized how much he had wanted this, how touch-deprived he was. Castiel’s clever hands were stroking along Dean’s ribcage, his back, the curves of his ass, moved to his throbbing, painfully hard erection and engulfed it gingerly. Dean’s eyes were rolling to the back of his head unknowingly when Castiel started jerking him in earnest, his grip tight and warm. Dean’s heart was tumbling, racing, galloping. He breathed in deeply, several times, to compose himself, wanting to pleasure Castiel as well, wanting to make this last. The black dots in his peripheral vision slowly disappeared when he regarded Castiel, lying underneath him, studying Dean for his part. The tiniest smile was playing around his mouth, a soft emotion stood in his eyes. Castiel’s actions were filled with fondness and pleasure, as he opened the foil of the condom, slipping it over Dean’s erection skillfully, slowly, torturing him perfectly. Dean had difficulties keeping his eyes open, his lust started overwhelming him, started weighing tons on his lids. He opened the bottle of lube, breathing heavy, he was so aroused, and coated his forefinger and middle finger generously.

He let both fingers glide into Castiel cautiously, studied Castiel’s face all the while. The younger man was biting on his lower lip, and he looked both agitated and aroused. Dean made short work and started rotating his fingers, shoving them in and out of Castiel again and again. He felt Cas’ heat, his tightness, the friction his fingers were causing. He watched Castiel tense up, how his abs were showing as he reared up and propped himself up on his elbows. With an all-consuming fire in his wonderful blue eyes, he regarded Dean, then looked down to where Dean’s fingers were filling him. It was then that Dean understood that Castiel wanted more, that his body was ready and craving for him. He followed a primal urge when he grabbed Castiel’s thighs with both hands and pushed them apart, sliding in between them. Dean’s heart was thundering, his breaths coming in staccato, when he looked down at this angelic creature laid out in front of him, looking nothing but sensual and fair. He shoved himself inside Cas then, slowly, spreading him with caution – Castiel froze in his motions, and a concentrated frown appeared on his forehead. Dean tried to be careful, but he could feel how tight Castiel was, how his muscles were clenching all around him. It felt divine to be engulfed by his heat, to burn himself in the most wonderful way; and even though Castiel was clearly trying to adjust to him, Cas was moaning high-pitched, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He looked as if he was about to faint. A beautiful blush spread on his chest, up to his neck and cheeks.

„It’s just the tip, baby,” Dean mumbled a few seconds later, trying to catch his breath. Sweat was rolling down his temples because he was straining so hard to hold back. His comment made Castiel moan once more – Dean was startled when Castiel suddenly seized one of his hands and placed it on his own erection. Dean encompassed it and stroked Cas slowly, feeling how thick and rock-hard he was. Castiel peeped at him, revealing the blue of his eyes from under lust-hooded lids, and a mellow smile sweetened Castiel’s mouth.

„You feel so good, Dean…,” Castiel whispered, his voice trembling. It made Dean smile affectionately. He leaned down and let his forehead come to rest against Castiel’s, looking him deeply in the eyes. He kissed him fleetingly, then he slowly shoved himself inside to the hilt; Castiel’s mouth fell open, his jaw became slack. Dean witnessed his pupils dilating more and more. For a second, Dean paused and closed his eyes, enjoying how good it felt to be connected like this again. It was overwhelming, frightening, arousing.

„You feel damn good too, Cas,” he rasped against Castiel’s mouth. He initiated a slow rhythm, filling Castiel up again and again as his dick slid out and into him. It was like a hallucination, like a fever dream, to watch Castiel come undone so beautifully underneath him, how he threw his head from one side to the other, moaning and sighing in turns as he met each and every of Dean’s strokes with his hips. Dean intensified the rhythm and the force of his thrusts, feeling as if he was chasing his own breaths. He could hear his own wrecked moans in his ears, felt the fire building up and up and up in his spine. His whole body was tingling, felt stimulated and wonderfully numb at the same time. Then there were Castiel’s fingernails in his shoulder blades, desperately holding on to him – Dean detected the haunted look in Cas’ lust-blown eyes, saw how his chest tensed up, how Castiel stopped breathing. He was nearly clinging to Dean with all his might as Dean slammed into him.

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s middle and held him while fucking into him, now with deeper and slower thrusts, taking his time as Castiel was obviously nearing his climax. Cas became lax in his arms, then he winced once, hard, and threw his head back. Dean watched him come, how his body cramped. His lengthy, tortured moan sounded like sweet music to Dean’s ear; he felt the wet heat of Castiel’s semen as he painted Dean’s abdomen with it. Cas was suddenly so tight as he cramped, it took Dean by surprise as his body reacted accordingly: A tremendous wave of giddiness and fire overran Dean, devoured him completely. He lost his balance and flopped down on Castiel’s spent body as wave after wave befell his body. It was a long and powerful orgasm, Dean heard himself moan constantly through it, his fingers searching for something to hold on to on Castiel’s body while he fell and fell...

When it was over, he was panting and sweat-through, and his lids were weighing tons. He became aware of Cas’ arms slung around his back, holding him closely, despite all their bodily fluids mingling. After a few moments of just lying there and gasping for breath, Dean managed to quickly disentangle from Cas, unroll the condom and wrap it into a tight knot. He threw it aside and lay down next to Castiel on the blanket, still flabbergasted and excited about what had just happened.

In the meantime, night had fully descended on the surrounding meadows and trees. With heavy eyes, Dean watched the dark blue firmament above them, where a few bright stars twinkled in competition. He was all confused and relieved at the same time, as if a weight had finally been taken off his mind; it slowly dawned on him what they had just done, how much it meant to Dean. While he clung like this to his thoughts, he suddenly noticed Castiel moving closer. The younger man bedded his head on Dean’s chest and threw an arm around his middle, breathing warm against Dean’s skin incessantly. It felt natural and right when Dean put an arm around Castiel’s frame too and pulled him closer, holding him tightly. The constant uproar in his heart, the confusion, the havoc that his mind was… all of it came to a halt when he held Castiel like that, feeling himself relax and dispersing in the moment. For a moment, Dean was at peace.

They remained like this for a good while. The darkness around them gained strength, and the stars shone even brighter, whereas the crickets and owls sang louder. Dean was dead tired; their lovemaking had exhausted him. In between feathery kisses and stroking one another’s arms or chest, Dean and Cas put on their boxers and shirts; but neither of them wanted to return to Bobby’s house yet. It felt as if they were in their own world here, their private little bubble, where no one but them was allowed to exist. Before Dean knew what had happened, first Castiel had fallen asleep, with his head still pillowed on Dean’s chest, and then Dean was slowly but surely following Castiel into dreamland, all the while holding Castiel closely in his arm.

…

Two hours later, Dean gradually woke up from his nap, the darkness and silence of the night all around him. His mind was befuddled. Bleary-eyed, he blinked the sleepiness away, wondering for a moment why he was out in the open, and why the hell he wasn’t wearing any shoes or a pair of jeans. Then he felt the weight in his arm, his hand holding a warm shoulder. There was a head with ruffled black hair resting on his collar bone, and a light snoring sound could be heard. Dean smiled secretly as the memories returned to him, and suddenly, he was wide awake. _Oh yeah._ Cas… He held him tighter in his arm and pulled him a little closer to his side. They must have fallen asleep. Dean yawned heartily. He realized how cold it had gotten out here in the meadows, it was chilly and damp – the temperature drop must have woken him up. They better went inside under a warm blanket, he thought, or they might catch a cold.

Gently, he shook Castiel, trying to wake him up. After a few moments, there was some incoherent grumbling, followed by sighs and sleep-drugged blathering. Dean chuckled. Castiel was probably still in the tight grip of a deep sleep.

„Come on, buddy, let’s get up,” he said kindly and continued shaking him out of his sleep. Castiel finally, but slowly, woke up with a groan. He sat up a little and supported his weight on his hands, looking up into Dean’s eyes with confusion. Dean beheld him in the dark, and he couldn’t help feeling affection blossoming in his heart – Castiel simply looked adorable with his sleep-crumbled features and his tousled bedroom hair.

„Dean?” Castiel asked, dazed with sleep. Dean let go of Cas then and struggled to his feet, then he bowed down and stretched out a helping hand to the other man. Castiel accepted it gratefully and let himself be pulled up. Suddenly, he was in Dean’s personal space, their chests nearly touching, their faces very close. With tenderness, Dean framed Castiel’s face with both hands, then he tilted his head and left an airy kiss on Castiel’s forehead. For a moment, he left his mouth on Castiel’s warm skin, tasting the salt of it.

„Come, let’s go inside,” he said against Castiel’s hairline. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s middle and hugged him, then he hid his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean closed his eyes and cherished the moment, the familiarity, the intimacy, while he held on to Cas’ hips. He was so tired… he could have fallen asleep right on the spot, right here. It felt so good to hold Castiel in this slumberous embrace, and he never wanted to let go… At last, Cas broke away, a faint glint of flirtatiousness dancing in his eyes as their glances met. Blindly, he took one of Dean’s hands into his, their fingers intertwining automatically. Then Castiel started walking, dragging Dean with him.

„Seems like you wore me out well,” Cas said, then winked at Dean. It made Dean smile stupidly happy.

„Yeah, ditto,” he replied. Quickly, he leaned in closer and left an innocent, heartfelt kiss on Castiel’s cheek, which brought a little smile to Cas’ lips.

They walked back to the house through the high grass, barefooted and only in their shorts and T-shirts, carrying the rest of their stuff. The moon was donating its silvery-white light and illuminated the way to their feet. Hand in hand they walked, sometimes beholding each other with careful smiles and affectionate looks. When they came to Bobby’s backyard, they realized his car wasn’t there, meaning he hadn’t returned from his meetup with Rufus yet.

They entered the dark house, let themselves into the kitchen, their hands letting go of one another in the process. Dean assumed it wasn’t that late yet, but he was dead tired and only wanted to continue sleeping. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the kitchen clock, showing him that it wasn’t even eleven yet. He and Castiel both went to the stairs, and he followed Castiel upstairs. The sudden question arose in him, whether he and Castiel would go separate ways now, whether Cas rather wanted to sleep alone in his bed. Upstairs, they stopped in the hallway as if they had silently listened to the question occupying Dean.

Castiel turned around to him and studied his face in the night’s bluish gloom. Dean felt awkward, hesitant, as he beheld Castiel contemplatively. He was somewhat abashed, didn’t know how to say what was on his mind. He wanted to stay with Castiel, he wanted to fall asleep with him again and feel his body close to his… but he didn’t dare to make this demand on him, fearing he would overstep an invisible line. It was kind of stupid, he thought to himself –just a few hours ago, he had slept with him, and now he didn’t dare to ask this simple thing of Cas… Sleeping with somebody seemed somehow less earth-shattering than _falling_ asleep next to your lover.

Then Castiel laid a gentle hand on Dean’s cheek, made him look at him. His lips were formed into an enigmatic smile, he looked openly into Dean’s eyes. Dean felt Castiel’s thumb brushing over his cheek, his temple, a small gesture of affection. Cas took a step forward, up to Dean, and looked at him from under his lashes, appearing hesitant at once. Dean studied his chest rising and falling with swift, hectic breaths. Cas tilted his head, so that his mouth was almost touching Dean’s, and stared into his eyes. Dean could almost taste him on his tongue as he sensed wave after wave of Castiel’s moist hot exhales fanning against his lips. His body started tingling torturously, craved for Castiel’s sensual kisses.

„Do you mind if I spend the night in your room?” Castiel whispered, a crooked smile flitting over his features. Dean was glad he had addressed the obvious elephant in the room, for he had been too chicken-hearted to say something. He gulped thickly, nothing but delighted that Castiel would sleep right next to him. He finally found his tongue again and harrumphed, sensing the hot blood rushing to his cheeks, making him sweat with nervousness. He inhaled his soapy lemony scent with greed, felt how it made his head swim and his knees buckle. Damn, he smelled so good…

„No, I don’t mind,” he said. Then he leaned in and pecked Castiel’s mouth sweetly, loving the taste of him. It was making him long for more; he was already addicted to these pliant perfect lips. „Just lemme hit the bathroom and prep for bed. Gotta brush my teeth, and there are bodily fluids all over me,” he said with a wry smirk. Castiel’s eyes were gleaming with humor and he chuckled.

„I wonder whose fault that is,” he commented with an innocent pout. Dean grinned and shoved Cas’ shoulder. Then he walked past him towards the bathroom. He made quick work and felt remarkably cleaner when he was done. While he gurgled the mouth rinse and counted down the seconds, he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror cabinet. Startled, he watched the change, which had come over his face. He looked so different… calmer, relaxed. A few worry lines must have disappeared, yet the expression of his eyes remained sharp and spoke of the pains he had experienced. However, the intensity of this glum expression in his eyes had lessened. He studied himself with interest, how he seemed to glow with an inner light, that hadn’t been there before. A careful smile crept to his lips, as his heart started pounding violently in his chest. Was he moving too fast?

He was way too tired to deal with all the emotional baggage knocking at his door when he left the bathroom. Castiel smiled sweetly at him when he shoved himself into the bathroom after Dean. Dean wandered into his room and flopped down on the bed, lying there on his stomach, one cheek resting on the mattress. He didn’t have the strength within him as he just lay there idly and felt his brain going haywire, like a freight train coming his way. Castiel found him like that and sat down right next to him. He had turned off all the lights, and now only the strong moonlight shone through the tilted window, creating soft shadows. Dean quickly looked up at Cas, only to detect the other man was smiling softly at him, a reflective expression dwelling in his moonlit eyes. Cas gently let a hand run through Dean’s hair, stroked along his cheek, and came to a halt. Dean closed his eyes and thoroughly enjoyed the fondling, having been touch-starved for way too long…

„What’s going on?” Castiel asked gently. Then his hand left Dean’s body and Castiel lay down beside him. His movements were saturated with care as he spread the blanket over himself and Dean, tugging them in. Dean still felt as if he couldn’t move, as if he was paralyzed. He lacked the ability to convey what was going through his head, how many fears and hopes were battling within him for the upper hand. He looked up to Castiel, who now rested on his side, one arm put under his head, so that he could look at Dean comfortably. His look was piercing, understanding, and Dean wished he could reveal everything going on inside of him to the other man… He smiled tiredly and wiped a hand over his eyes. He couldn’t endure those knowing eyes, scanning him, detecting every thought without Dean having to utter a word.

„Many different thoughts, Cas… Upheavals, emotions, hard to explain.”

„I know the feeling, Dean. Still, I’m so glad about _us_ , Dean, whatever this is… I don’t regret anything.”

Finally, Dean found the energy to move again. He moved up so that his head was laying right beside Castiel’s on the pillow, mirroring the other man’s position. Dean couldn’t but smile when he placed his warm hand on Castiel’s cheek, his thumb repeatedly brushing along the slight stubble there. A haunted look of vulnerability fled over his lover’s features quickly, then he leaned into Dean’s touch, closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively.

„Don’t you dare to think I regret any of this, Cas. That’s not what I mean, and I think you know it.”

With unspeakable joy, Dean watched a loveable heartfelt smile coming to life on Castiel’s mouth. Blindly, he grabbed Dean’s hand with his and turned it, so that he could leave a long-lasting, innocent kiss on the palm of Dean’s hand. Baffled, Dean stared at the other man, heard his heart thud in his ears. How was it possible that he loved him so dearly, so infinitely? His throat corded up with bittersweet ache, all his thoughts had become nothing but static. Castiel placed Dean’s hand on his cheek again and snuggled his head deeper into the pillow.

„Yeah, I know… Let’s talk tomorrow, Dean. Sleep tight…”

Dean agreed – now wasn’t a good time to talk when both of them were still so freshly in the grips of the latest events. With a heavy heart, he watched Castiel slowly falling asleep – his breaths becoming deeper and slower, his lids flickering as his eyes moved underneath. Dean didn’t know how long it took him until he could finally make the voices in his head shut up, but finally, he was traveling into dreamland as well.

…

It was just at the crack of dawn when Dean woke up again, not even six. Sluggishness was possessing his body. His lids were weighing tons as he tried to force himself to fully wake up. He shifted from one side to the other, snuggling his head into the pillow deeper. In his half-awake state, he opened his eyes to see Castiel’s next to him, lying on his side, his back turned to Dean. He seemed to be waking up as well, for he was twisting and turning from time to time as well.

The first birds of the day sang their good-morning-song cheerfully and loudly outside. A brisk breeze was wafting through the tilted window, stroked through Dean’s hair. He beheld Castiel’s clothed back, and suddenly, he was filled with a greedy lust for him, a primal urge. His hands started acting without thinking. Carefully, he touched the small of Castiel’s back and felt him tense up with surprise. Then he shifted closer as his fingers playfully wandered up Castiel’s back underneath the shirt. He felt the hot, smooth skin of his back, the muscles moving under his fingertips, the bow of his rips… when he had reached Cas’ shoulder blades, the other man turned around.

His face was lying right underneath Dean’s; he looked up at Dean with a shy smile, a faint light was glowing in his beautiful eyes. The perse twilight of daybreak was mirrored in his irises, and the sight of it left Dean speechless. He was sure he would never tire of studying the different hues of blue mingling in Castiel’s irises… Then Cas uplifted one hand and let it come to rest on the back of Dean’s head, his fingers sifting through the strands of Dean’s hair with tenderness. A tickling sensation wandered down Dean’s back, made him shudder with delight. There was a sweet smile on Castiel’s kissable mouth as he regarded Dean knowingly, pleased about the effect he had on the other man.

„Good morning,” he rasped, his voice coated with sleepiness. Dean couldn’t resist any longer. With a sigh, he leaned down and captured Castiel’s lips with his. Slowly they were kissing, their mouths brushing against one another. Dean let go for a second, his head spinning with arousal, but then Castiel threw both his arms around Dean’s neck and lifted his head to kiss him again and again. Their lips slid together, and Castiel exerted the most delicate amount of pressure to make Dean go crazy with pleasure. He hummed appreciatively against the other man’s mouth, thoroughly enjoyed being kissed like that.

Then Castiel’s arms pulled him closer while they kissed, and soon, Dean’s body was hovering above Castiel’s, and he was kneeling between his spread legs. Dean supported himself on his palms placed next to his lover’s head. Panting, he let go of the other man and looked down into his face. It moved him to see how gone Castiel already was – his pupils dilated, his hair ruffled, his breathing exhilarated. He regarded Dean with lust-hooded eyes, his lids drooping. Dean couldn’t stand seeing Castiel this way, he wanted to make him come so badly, until there was peace again his look, not this strife of his lust. He leaned down again and kissed him passionately. Castiel opened his mouth for him, and Dean let his tongue dive inside, and soon, their tongues were sliding together, eliciting one moan after the other from Dean.

He let his body come down on Castiel’s then, their chests and hips touching, and then he could feel the hard erection pressing against his own. His head started becoming clouded with lust as he let go of Castiel’s mouth, only to pepper his throat with open-mouthed kisses. He couldn’t get enough of Castiel, wanted to devour him… he smelled so good, his body was so warm and lithe, and his thick stiff cock pressing against Dean made him delirious with want. He swallowed thickly when he gingerly wrapped a hand around Castiel’s clothed erection, squeezing it lightly, toying with it as he rubbed it with fine, skilled movements. Castiel winced with arousal, then threw his head back on the pillow and moaned lengthily. To Dean, it was a sound directly ripped out of heaven, went right to his innermost core. He continued pleasuring Cas, stroking his hard-on with slow, teasing motions of his fingers.

„Dean… we can’t,” Castiel panted finally, and let his hand come down on Dean’s, making him stop. Dean frowned. If they couldn’t, what the hell had they been doing for the past minutes? He regarded Cas with a disbelieving look – Cas just averted his eyes, appearing abashed, and he went red with embarrassment.

„I’m kind of sort of… you’re, ugh, you’re well-equipped, so to say, I’m a little bit sore,” he said breathlessly, making Dean laugh. Castiel glared at Dean, but Dean had different plans than fighting. He winked at Cas.

„No worries, baby, I have an idea…,” he rasped. And with that, he slid down and shoved the blanket aside. With one hand, he rucked up Castiel’s shirt, exposing his lean stomach and pecs. A fire started burning within him, erased all coherent thoughts as it licked through his insides. He leaned down and kissed Castiel’s stomach open-mouthed, while his hands stroked along the insides of Castiel’s thighs. Castiel twitched, tensed up all his muscles, only to become loose again. He sighed when Dean bit down on his sharp hipbones, then he started moaning when Dean sucked the flesh there and left a dark hickey.

Dean finally pulled down Castiel’s boxers, revealing his raging hard-on, which was all swollen and pink and gorgeous. He slid down between Castiel’s spread legs and gingerly wrapped his mouth around the sensitive head, feeling Castiel wince in the process. He looked up and saw with rapture that Castiel was biting down on his knuckles, trying to keep his voice down. Their eyes met and Dean detected the heat in Castiel’s glance when Dean took as much of him inside as he could. It had been quite a while since the last time had done this with a guy… but from the way Castiel’s heavy dick was twitching with arousal in his mouth, he seemed to be doing okay. He started sucking Castiel in earnest then, his mouth gliding up and down on his dick. He dared to nibble at the head, let his tongue run over the thick vein on the underside, before taking him back into his warm wet mouth again. Castiel was squirming by now, his moans getting higher, his breathing coming in staccato.

All at once, Castiel’s hand was in his hair again, and he pulled Dean’s head up. When Dean looked at him, he couldn’t believe the change which had come over Castiel. He looked gorgeous, tempting, so sensual… his pupils were dilated, his lips puffed from their kisses, and his cheeks were a little reddened. He was panting as he contemplated Dean with nothing but desire, appetite. With a pounding heart, Dean beheld him, wondering how it could be possible for anyone to be this devastatingly handsome. 

„Dean, I need you, wanna feel you,” Castiel muttered. Dean gulped nervously and sat up a little. He reached out a hand and tenderly stroked along Castiel’s stubbly cheek – with delight, he saw him leaning into the palm of Dean’s hand, visibly enjoying his affectionate caress.

„I thought you were sore, buddy. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he pointed out. Castiel was probably so caught up in his frenzy that he couldn’t think clearly anymore… Dean honestly craved for him, he longed to feel him and become intertwined with him again, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt him. So he sat there, between Castiel’s thighs, willing his mind to get a grip on itself, as he remembered how good last night had felt, how good it had felt to be inside Cas… Castiel studied Dean’s face attentively, then a meek smile appeared on his lips – he suddenly reached out a hand and cupped Dean’s erection, jerking it with powerful strokes. Dean was instantly swaying, flabbergasted as the waves of his oncoming orgasm were hammering down on him. Oh God…

„Don’t worry about me… I wanna feel you so bad,” Castiel whispered and pulled down Dean’s boxers in one go. Dean’s heart was somersaulting, and he was panting, as he leaned forward and reached for the nightstand. He couldn’t resist any longer. With shaky fingers, he produced a condom he had stashed there. Then he ripped it open, but with tender certain touches, Castiel took it out of his palms. Their eyes rested on one another when Cas pulled the condom over Dean’s dick with one skilled movement, squeezing him with the perfect amount of pressure all the while. Then Dean pushed him down on the bed again, finally letting go of any thought of control or reserve. He shoved Castiel’s knees apart and slipped between his splayed legs, uplifted his well-shaped ass with both hands. With a ravenous hunger beyond Dean’s comprehension, he rammed into Cas, filling him up with all his length. He watched Castiel’s face becoming nothing but the embodiment of rapture, carefreeness. Dean moaned lowly, bit on his lower lip, as he felt himself pulse within Cas, his heavenly heat around him, squeezing him tightly.

He dared to thrust into him, slowly and with force, and it seemed to do the trick for Cas. A veil of reddishness covered his cheeks; he squinted his eyes shut and his jaw dropped as his mouth stood sensually agape. Dean watched his dick disappearing in Castiel’s heat again and again; he loved to see how he spread his lover, how deeply buried he was inside of him. It was hot and intense. When Castiel’s moan became more unrestrained, high-pitched and sultry, Dean leaned down to kiss him with all he had, swallowing the sounds Castiel made. Being thus bereft of fresh air, Castiel let go as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He squirmed underneath Dean, his body buckling mindlessly, as he came hard. Dean felt him come, felt his muscles constricting around him, holding him in place with all might. He was panting as he sensed Castiel’s hot come against his abdomen.

With satisfaction, Dean watched Castiel laying underneath him, lolling in the sheets erotically as one wave after the other consumed him, made him whimper and moan in turns. Dean was nothing but mesmerized with the beauty in front of him. And then he felt it too, creeping up on him. He was swaying on his knees, felt dizzy, hot and sweaty as he kept thrusting into Cas forcefully. Then there was a white-hot wave of pleasure cursing through his veins, making him loose and tense up at the same time. He enjoyed the lightness, the surge of nothing but electric bliss, as he gave in to his orgasm, ejaculating again and again into the condom.

When he flopped down on Cas, they were both breathless, panting wrecks. Castiel threw his arms around Dean and held him, unwilled to let him go yet. Dean was still inside of him, basking in the afterglow of his frenzy. He listened to his accelerated heartbeat, felt its powerful thuds against his ribcage. He was a little dizzy, yet nothing but wonderfully weightless, braindead. Castiel peppered his temple and forehead with sweet kisses, stroked along Dean’s back with both his hands mindlessly. Dean could have stayed in here forever… A sudden thought came to his mind when he remembered their conversation of last night and he grinned to himself.

„Is this your idea of talking? Because I sure as hell ain’t complaining,” he quipped. He heard and felt Castiel chuckle underneath him, and it made him laugh as well.

TO BE CONTINUED


	12. Is there any more to it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well guys, sorry for the late update :-) I was pretty exhausted, depressed and sleep-deprived lately, so I had to take care of my menthal and phyiscal health more. Kinda doing ok right now, not super but okay :-) Btw, actually each chapter was supposed to be like 5000 - 6000 words, now it's more or less always 8000 words... oops! Hope you like the next chapter!

**Chapter 12 – Is there any more to it?**

They had fallen asleep pretty soon after their intimate “get-together” – it was an early Saturday morning, so they could sleep in to their heart’s content. Just before Dean had dozed off again, all sweaty and spent, and an equally satisfied Castiel lying in his arm, a heavy thought crossed his mind and made him feel bittersweetly torn: Only a couple of days were left until he had to return to Saint Louis, to his old life. Next Friday, in less than a week, he would have to leave all of this behind again, for the road was long, and he had to be back at work the Monday thereafter. As he held Castiel and felt him falling asleep right beside him, his weight becoming heavier in his arm, it felt so surreal to think that this could ever end. That he wasn’t supposed to be right here, right next to him.

When they woke up a couple of hours later, the sun had gained strength, and warm, yellowish rays of light flooded the room. Castiel rubbed his eyes and yawned heartily, then he sat up and regarded Dean with a sweet little smile on his mouth, fondness in his look.

“I definitely need a shower after all of…well, _this,_ ” he said with a grin and pointed at himself and Dean in turns. He got up and donned his boxer shorts, already making for the door. Dean frowned.

“You’re not avoiding the conversation we need to have, right?” he asked reproachfully. Castiel stopped and turned around to him – a melancholic expression appeared on his features as he beheld Dean for a few seconds. Then he shook his head and smiled sadly, shrugged his shoulders.

“No, I’m not. But I’d rather get cleaned up before I spill out all the dirt of my soul, you know,” he explained with a lopsided smirk. Dean nodded, thinking he understood what Castiel was getting at. Maybe this conversation wasn’t going to be lovey-dovey and nice, maybe it would get unpleasant. And if it was going to go south, Dean also rather wanted to be showered and dressed, though he couldn’t rationally explain it.

“Hey, don’t use up all the hot water,” he called in jest when Cas left the room, hearing Cas chuckling at that. Then he finally got up and aired the room, thinking it smelt of sex and sweat in here. He walked up to the closet and got out clothes to wear. After that, he contemplated the bed with a skeptic frown, thinking it was probably wise to put clean sheets on the bed. This was, after all, Bobby’s house, and they were only guests here. The thought, that Bobby might have heard them, crossed Dean’s mind, and made him blush fiercely – this was like being a teenager all over again and hiding your partner from your parents. He got to work and changed the sheets. Then he heard Castiel opening the bathroom door. Dean grabbed his things and made a beeline for the bathroom. He crossed Castiel’s path on his way there (and _damn_ , Castiel looked even hotter with wet hair…), and they exchanged soft smiles before Dean disappeared and closed the door behind himself.

When Dean was showered, shaved, and dressed, he felt remarkably better, loving the clean and the soapy scent he was surrounded with. He always used a washing soap bar with camphor oil, and there was something about the rich aromatic scent, which never failed to calm his nerves. And if he needed anything right now, it were nerves of steel.

He exited the bathroom and found Castiel sitting on his bed in his own room. He was just sitting there idly, holding one of his bent legs with his hand, as he stared absentmindedly into space. Dean knocked on the door quietly, then he smiled placidly at Cas when the other man jolted out of his daydreams. He closed the door behind himself blindly, holding Castiel’s stare with a meaningful look. Castiel smiled winningly, looking nothing but cute with his wet and ruffled dark hair.

“Can’t we have breakfast first?”

Dean grinned and shook his head, approaching Cas with slow steps. He then stopped in front of him and knelt down, placed both hands in Castiel’s lap. With nothing but adoration overtaking him, he looked up into his lover’s face, seeking and finding his own affection mirrored there in Castiel’s look. He gripped Cas’ thighs and squeezed them lightly.

“Come on, Cas… no more excuses. Let’s talk,” he said softly. Castiel closed his eyes, then, and took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he sighed, then he let himself fall back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, incapable of looking directly at Dean when it came to _them._ Dean got up and carefully sat down next to Cas, the mattress yielding to his weight. He studied Cas with his heart pounding vehemently in his chest. A wide spectrum of emotions was toying with Dean – uncertainty, joy, excitement, fear… He bit down on his bottom lip, wondering what would happen to him and Cas. If there was a chance for them.

“When I met you all those years ago,” Castiel started, deeply lost in thought as he searched for his memories, “I knew there was something about you, Dean. Something I couldn’t shake off easily. You made a big impression on me, and I didn’t even know why – I couldn’t explain it, still can’t. But I couldn’t get you off my mind…”

He paused and beheld Dean with a coy smile, and Dean thought it was the sweetest thing ever when he detected a veil of blush clouding Castiel’s features. He looked so meek and innocent, so immaculate… Cas smiled then and looked away again.

“You have no idea how happy I was when I told Jo about our night, and when I realized she knew you. I thought about getting into contact with you, thought about getting to know you better, even meet up with you someday… But Jo told me that you had already moved away to Saint Louis, and a few months later, she told me you were in a relationship with a woman… And then I met Aaron,” Castiel said with a joyless voice. “And I knew there wasn’t a chance for us, that I had missed the right moment.”

Dean smiled secretly, deeply moved by Castiel’s honest words. He felt as if his heart was getting wings, as if it might escape him soon and fly away, he was so happy. Their one-night stand had also always meant more to Dean – and how often he had thought about Castiel later on, wondering what he was doing, where and how he was living… but he didn’t have any of his contact details. And then he had fallen in love with Lisa, and Castiel had almost slipped out of his mind, except for the occasional day when a stranger crossed his path, who looked like him, or when someone had the same baritone voice as him… He returned his attention to Cas, whose face darkened now, a melancholic smile on his lips.

“I was happy for a while, Dean, content. I thought I had made a good catch with Aaron… well, you know how this story ended… In the last year with Aaron, I often dreamed of breaking up with him and getting away from him for good. And after everything he has put me through, after everything I let him do to me… the point is, I never wanted to have a relationship again, Dean. Ever. I was done with love and everything having to do with it.”

Castiel stopped and regarded Dean, sadness and agony in his eyes, but nevertheless, he smiled through the pain. He sat up then, so that he could look right into Dean’s eyes, holding his gaze firmly. Dean felt as if in a dream, detached from the world and all its problems, when Castiel raised a hand and touched his cheek tenderly. Cas bowed his head, so that their foreheads were almost touching. Dean sensed his hot wet clouds of breath stroking his lips sensually - he could inhale Castiel’s warm exhales, they were so close.

“And then you came into my life again,” Castiel whispered. Goosebumps tickled along Dean’s shoulders and nape. He took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm down the growing upheaval. Was this really happening? He closed his eyes, too, felt wave after wave of wonderful dizziness surging within him.

“So, what are you saying, Cas”, he murmured, barely resisting the temptation to kiss him again. He heard Castiel’s smile without seeing it.

“That you made me question all of my resolutions, Dean. That maybe… there might be a chance for us, to finally explore what we are, or could be, to each other…”

Dean huffed a laugh, leaned his forehead trustfully against Castiel’s, felt the warmth of him devolve upon him.

“That means I’m not just a fling to you?” he asked, needed to hear Castiel say it. Then Castiel kissed him briefly, his pliant lips just brushing over Dean’s gingerly, lingering on his for a moment. Dean was nothing but overjoyed.

“You’ve never been just a fling to me, Dean. You’re so much more… More than I dare to admit.”

It was then that Dean let go of Cas and sought for his eyes, made sure that Castiel was looking at him, too. He needed to get all of his inner monologues finally right out in the open, needed to get them off his chest at last. It was the least thing he could do to repay Castiel’s honesty with his own truth.

Castiel had blushed crimson red by now, having laid bare all of his heart to Dean, and Dean couldn’t help himself when he quickly leaned forward to kiss his warm red cheek lovingly. He looked so adorable… Then he sobered down and took Castiel’s hands into his, held them with certainty as he contemplated them. He thought their hands looked perfect together, as if they were meant to be holding one another. As the memories flooded his mind, Dean’s throat corded up with terrible pain. He sensed the sharp dagger of said pain cutting through his heart, as if his wounds had never healed after all this time. It was strange to feel this way, for, at the same time, he was overjoyed with Castiel’s confession and what he meant to him.

“You know, Cas… when I lost Lisa, it was as if my world was suddenly breaking down. Lisa and I had just built up our lives in Saint Louis, and I thought the two of us would continue forever. When she died, it didn’t only feel as if I had lost a partner; it felt as if I had lost all this future, which had been waiting for us. I had dreamed of buying a house with her, marrying her, having the odd 1.7 statistic kid… and suddenly, all of that was ripped out of my hands. And there was nothing I could do about it.”

As the pain started overwhelming him, Dean paused and gulped against the lump in his throat. He remembered the sheer despair only too well, the utter hopelessness in the months after Lisa’s death. His uncertainty about everything in life he thought he had known. The constricting pressure in his chest was growing, slowly killing him with brute force. Castiel pressed his hands wordlessly, telling him that he understood, that he was sharing Dean’s pain. Dean found courage and comfort in the image of Castiel’s thumb brushing over the back of his hand repeatedly. He smiled tentatively.

“I felt as if I had no more direction, no purpose, no guidance, just nothing left… I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life anymore, if anything I did even made sense anymore. You know the rest. I ran away from Saint Louis, hiding behind my wheel and driving countless miles, but soon I figured I couldn’t run away from what had happened, and that my thoughts wouldn’t remain in Saint Louis, just because I wanted them to. I decided to continue with whatever life I had left. But just like you, I swore to myself to never get involved with someone again. To never let anyone near me again. But there’s something about you, Cas, that makes me wanna toss all my doubts and fears overboard and just let you in… I’m just not sure if I can ever get that vulnerable again. If I can ever allow someone to be that close to me again.”

Dean closed his eyes when Castiel brought one hand up and stroked through his hair slowly, lovingly. He leaned into the intimate touch, cherished the sensation of Castiel’s tenderness. Within him, his heart was going on a rampage – afraid to get hurt again, thrilled to love and be loved again. He felt torn, wanted to kiss Cas, wanted to run away from him.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Dean,” Cas said gently. His words touched a sore spot within Dean, made the pain vanish, allayed his fears. He didn’t even have to explain all the chaos within him, all the silly fears his heart continuously harbored – Castiel simply _understood_ him and knew exactly how to reassure him. That it was okay to let someone close to you again. Despite the trauma. Despite the fear. That love and its loss had both damaged Cas and Dean, but that they were also willing to give this, whatever it was, a chance. This epiphany baffled Dean, made him speechless with reverence. He would have never dreamed that he would allow himself to fall again. But with Cas, he felt safe enough to jump. Suddenly, there was nothing but silence, liberating calmness resonating within him. He sighed and blindly grasped Castiel’s hand, pulled it down, and intertwined their fingers. It felt so familiar to be close to Cas, to open up to him. Around Cas, Dean knew he could completely be himself, and that he was appreciated and found a ready welcome in Cas’ arms.

“Yeah, I know. All you’ve ever done, Cas, is make me feel good about myself. And you make me feel hopeful again, as if there’s finally a purpose to all of this again. I haven’t experienced that in a long, long time.”

Then Castiel kissed him, his lips carefully pressed against Dean’s for a moment. All the voices within Dean’s head became quiet. The raving madness of his heart came to a halt. He concentrated on Castiel’s plump lips, their softness, the raw hunger for Dean resting in his kiss…

They disengaged from one another for a quick moment, reassuring the other that they were okay, that everything needing to be said, had been said. Dean was stunned when he recognized nothing but peace in Castiel’s deep blue eyes. His eyes were practically brimming over with pure joy. The fairest smile graced his lips, and he beheld Dean with unbearable devotion, as if he was the embodiment of one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Cas framed Dean’s face with both hands, reassuring Dean that he was truly in the here and now, that this wasn’t a figment of his imagination. That he would keep him safe.

“Come here,” Cas whispered ardently. And Dean let himself be pulled in for another kiss, kissing Cas back with all the love and passion he felt for him. For a moment, he wondered how he had ever doubted that this wasn’t a good thing. It didn’t take long, and their kisses got deeper, more frantic. Cas threw one arm around Dean’s neck, holding him close as their tongues slid together. One of his hands snaked under Dean’s shirt and stroked along his torso, and his intent and keen touches turned Dean on so much, he moaned into their kisses. His head was spinning when he touched Castiel too – his hands traveling down Cas’ broad shoulders, his muscled upper arms, sliding down over his pecs… They were making out for a good while, neither of them paying heed to the world continuing outside this room. Then Dean’s stomach grumbled angrily, and they broke apart. Surprise and amusement appeared on their faces, and Dean grinned sheepishly. He brushed a rampant strand of Castiel’s dark hair aside and pecked his lips once more. He then got up and extended an inviting hand to Cas, nodding towards the door.

“I think it’s high time for breakfast.”

…

“Dean, stop it!” Castiel laughed and nudged Dean’s side with his elbow. Dean was standing behind him, his arms slung around Castiel’s middle – and he just couldn’t stop showering Castiel’s neck and shoulders with sweet, innocent kisses. However, Castiel had other intentions, namely preparing breakfast for them all. Somehow, he had managed to mix the batter for pancakes together, again and again interrupted by long, voluptuous kisses from Dean. And now he was chipping a mountain of strawberries, chuckling whenever Dean wanted to steal another kiss from him. Dean was in a good mood, and on top of that, stupidly smitten with Cas, so letting him be was simply out of the question. He bit into Castiel’s shoulder playfully then, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Castiel groaned unnerved, then they both laughed.

“Have I told you you’re the worst?” Cas complained.

“Yeah, a couple of times by now, actually,” Dean noted, his voice sounded muffled against Castiel’s shirt. Cas placed the fruit knife down then and turned around to Dean, their bodies tightly squished together. Dean melted into a puddle of infatuation when Castiel’s eyes lit up with humor and when he gave Dean a lopsided grin. He raised an admonishing forefinger at Dean, but couldn’t stifle the constant grin.

“Alright, _one_ more kiss. Then you’ll stop bothering me!”

Dean smirked and put his arms around Castiel’s hips, pulled him as close as possible against his chest. Their gazes locked. Then Dean watched Castiel’s eyes darting over his mouth, his eyes, how his pupils dilated with desire. He seemed altogether flustered, aroused by being pressed against Dean so intimately.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t want this, too,” Dean said quietly. The seduction resonating in his voice did the trick, for Cas’ breath became shaky when he breathed hotly against Dean’s mouth. Dean tilted his head and caught Castiel’s lips with his, both their eyes falling shut as the rush of sensations got the better of them. Castiel practically melted in Dean’s arms and replied to his kiss with vigor, taking and giving as much as Dean. Their exchange of caresses was just getting out of hand, when they suddenly heard someone clearing their throat. _Oh, damn… Bobby!_ They had completely forgotten about him.

Still holding Castiel’s hips in his hands, Dean stopped kissing Cas and turned his head around to Bobby. The old man was standing in the kitchen in his bathrobe, looking crumpled and sleepy. He gave Dean a scrutinizing look, then he bent his head to regard Castiel in the same skeptic manner.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” he deadpanned.

Then he sat down at the kitchen table and unfolded the newspaper. Not a word was being said about what he had just witnessed – Dean and Cas obviously making out in his kitchen. There was a moment of awkward silence, neither Dean nor Cas finding the courage to move or say something. Finally, Bobby looked up, an unnerved expression on his wrinkled face.

“Are you just gonna stand there, turned into a pillar of salt? Or will there ever be breakfast in this house again? What are you cooking?” he complained. At last, Castiel freed himself from his paralysis, Bobby’s words setting him in motion. He turned around to the kitchen counter again and continued chopping strawberries. He put a dollop of butter into the iron pan, and its sizzling sound filled up the kitchen.

“Uhm, pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries. Ready in five,” he said. Dean bit on his bottom lip, stifling a good-humored grin. He wasn’t ashamed that Bobby knew of him and Cas, it was actually kind of funny to him that Bobby had caught them like this, kissing like lovesick teenagers. Also, the embarrassment about getting caught made Castiel blush, which was also pretty endearing to witness. He decided to make coffee. Before he walked over to the coffee machine, he slapped Castiel’s ass with gusto, laughing when Castiel protested with an indignant outcry.

“I’m certain either you two or the food is gonna give me diabetes,” Bobby muttered sullenly.

…

After breakfast, Cas announced he was going out for a walk to clear his head. Dean frowned at that, wondering if he had done something to upset Cas, or if the guy just needed some alone time. Dean and Bobby had plans for the day anyway, as a car from one of the neighbors needed some repair and a serious makeover. Dean was just discussing with Bobby what kind of reparations needed to be done, while at the same time, he watched Cas tying his shoes in the entrance hall. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was odd about Castiel’s behavior – he looked peculiarly ruminative, as if he had a lot of things to ponder about. But when Cas came into the kitchen once more and leaned down to peck Dean’s cheek lovingly, neither of them could suppress their soppy smiles. Dean was somewhat becalmed.

“See you later,” Cas said and kissed Dean’s cheek once more. Then he walked to the front door and left the house. Nothing but stupidly infatuated, Dean touched his own cheek, where Castiel had kissed him, thinking he could still feel his lips lingering on his skin. He had pins and needles in his stomach, his hormones going haywire. Bobby glared at him knowingly, and Dean blushed and looked away.

“What?” he grumbled. Bobby shrugged his shoulders.

“Nothing. I’m glad you two finally worked it out. You’re cute together,” the old man said nonchalantly. Dean heard the notorious undertone in Bobby’s words – there was clearly a chiding “but” hanging in the air, waiting for Dean. Kind of annoyed about the inevitable, he looked at Bobby, raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“But?” he prompted. Bobby met his look and sighed. Clearly, he was going to mention something Dean didn’t wanna hear – he was certain of it, but Dean also knew that Bobby only ever meant well for him. That was probably a thing with surrogate dads – they just never stopped caring about you and smother-loved you.

“ _But…_ you’re leaving next week Friday, Dean. And Saint Louis is more than 600 miles away from Sioux Falls. I know you wanna move back here, but that might take some time. What will become of you and Cas? Have you talked with him about that yet?”

And there it was. The pain point Dean had tried to eliminate from his thoughts rather unsuccessfully. Afflicted, he rubbed a hand over his mouth and cheek, thinking about Bobby’s concern. He hadn’t found any solution yet.

“Yeah, you’re right, Bobby. I haven’t really discussed this with Cas, yet. But I was going to. You know how it is, one thing leads to another, and before you know it, you end up in a bed with someone and-“

“Whoa! Spare me the details, son. Too much information,” Bobby interrupted with a laugh, raising his hands in the air. Dean grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, you wish. But you’re right, Bobby. I’m gonna talk to Cas, soon. Just… not today. We only had a little heart-to-heart this morning and I don’t wanna bother him with more confessions and big plans right now. As it is, I fear he’s already tangled up in his head. Or why do you think he left again for a walk all by himself?”

Bobby frowned.

“Well, what did you do? Did you disclose your crazy kinks to him, or what?”

Dean smiled softly to himself when he thought about this morning. Castiel’s tenderness. Their intimacy. The feeling of desire and trust mingling in Dean’s heart… He raised his eyes to Bobby’s, a proud smile on his lips.

“Nah, we basically confirmed to the other that this isn’t a fling or something... that it’s something more serious.”

Bobby nodded, then he whistled mightily impressed. He got up and patted Dean’s shoulder amicably.

“Invite me to the wedding, yeah?”

Dean scoffed a laugh and rolled his eyes.

…

Castiel came back nearly two hours later – he found Dean and Bobby in the backyard, both working on the damaged car. Of course, due to the summer’s heat, all of them were sweaty, but when Dean caught a glimpse of Cas strolling towards them, he was plainly bewildered by the exhaustion written all over Castiel’s face. He couldn’t hide his concern for him as he regarded the other man with a frown.

“Cas? Are you okay?”

Cas smiled tiredly at them and shrugged his shoulders. With embarrassment, he scratched the back of his head.

“Hey… I got a little lost on the way. And then I cut across wild country for a good while to get back. Didn’t realize there are so many blackberry bushes in this neck of the woods. They have nasty little thorns.”

Bobby gave him a reproachful, sinister look.

“You could have called. We could have come to pick you up. It’s very easy to get heatstroke in this midday sun.”

Cas stopped Bobby’s tirade with a wave of his hand and shook his head.

“No, it’s alright. I got myself into that mess and I got myself out again. It’s nothing, really. Anyone up for lunch? I’m gonna go inside and fix us something to eat.”

And with that, he turned around on his heel and walked away into the house. His posture was tense, his hands were formed into tight fists. Dean frowned. He looked at Bobby, both of them immediately getting what the other was thinking. Castiel’s behavior was weird. Dean contemplated the backdoor for a moment, where Castiel had disappeared to. A feeling of unease grew within him. He couldn’t stop fretting about Cas, about his physical as well as his emotional well-being. Was Dean to blame for the strange shift in Castiel’s demeanor? Was Castiel already regretting to have slept with Dean, and that he had opened up his heart to him?

“He’s not himself. Something’s going on. You better check in on him. Make sure he drinks enough and that he really hasn’t caught heat exhaustion,” Bobby remarked. Dean couldn’t have agreed more. He put down his tools and wiped his dirty, oiled hands with a handkerchief. Then he went inside, determined to confront Cas and ask him if everything was alright.

In the house, semi-darkness lingered – they had lowered the blinds this morning to keep the heat out, and therefore, it was comfortably cool. Dean was surprised to find Castiel lying on the couch in the living room, grayish twilight suffusing the room. Castiel had his eyes closed, his hands placed on his stomach, and he looked as if he was asleep, or very sick. The adrenaline overcame Dean like a shock. He rushed to Castiel’s side and called his name. Cas opened his eyes, confusion in his look.

“Dean? What’s the matter?”

Dean widened his eyes and shook his head rather annoyed. “What’s the matter,” Dean imitated sardonically. Then he walked over to the sink and filled a glass of cool water for Cas. He returned to him and thrust it into his hand, knelt down beside him. “Drink,” he insisted, watching Castiel gulp down the cool liquid greedily, as if he was terribly parched with thirst. When he was done, he sighed satisfied, but Dean got up and fetched him another glass and made him drink it too. Then Castiel lay down on the couch again, and he regarded Dean with big questioning eyes.

“You’re a fool, Cas. The heat didn’t do you any good. You should have called me instead of being stubborn,” he muttered angrily, masking his worry behind his voice - but he couldn’t keep all of his obvious apprehension for Cas out of his words. Gently he felt for Castiel’s forehead – it was sweaty and cool, and Castiel’s skin was awfully pale. He searched for Castiel’s eyes, smiling nevertheless when Cas smiled fondly at him.

“I’m okay. Don’t worry. I feel much better already,” he said quietly. Dean worried his bottom lip with his teeth, wondering if Castiel was telling the truth or just saying this for Dean’s comfort.

“Well, I think it’s best if you remain lying down here for a little while, and _I_ will prepare lunch.”

Cas nodded in agreement; then he took one of Dean’s hands and raised it to his lips, leaving a coy, lingering kiss on the back of Dean’s hand. Dean felt frozen, stupidly affected by this sweet little gesture. His and Castiel’s eyes locked. Thunderbolts of affection and unfiltered bliss shot through Dean’s insides, made him smile a twitchy smile. Dean averted his eyes. He harrumphed, somewhat embarrassed about himself. He just couldn’t stand Castiel’s piercing, knowing look for too long, it always felt as if Castiel could see right through him. With a nameless joy, he regarded his and Castiel’s hand combined, holding one another.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Shoot!” Cas replied. Dean started kneading Castiel’s fingers with his, toyed with them absentmindedly.

“Could it be that you’re avoiding me? Are you regretting what has happened between us?”

There was a brief pause. Then Castiel sat up so that he was face to face with Dean kneeling on the floor. He beheld Dean with a melancholic smile, sadness clouding his gorgeous blue eyes. Dean’s breath hitched when Castiel suddenly took his face into his hands. He held Dean’s look firmly when he spoke again, making sure Dean got his point.

“How can you even think that, Dean? I don’t regret any of this. Never. After everything you have done for me in the last weeks… and you have no idea how happy I am about what has happened with us. I will never regret any of this. I just need some time to clear my head every once in a while, you know? Please don’t mistake my seclusion as some sort of alienation from you. It’s more like a battle in my head that I sometimes have to fight with myself. That doesn’t change the way I feel about you, though…”

Dean felt overrun with emotions, his throat cording up with bittersweet pain. It was a sharp pain that bordered on warm bliss suffusing him from head to toe. He tried to smile at his lover, but failed in his attempt, as he was so overwhelmed with Castiel’s words. He could just nod subtly, too choked up to speak. Then he watched Castiel’s eyes close, and a beautiful veil of longing fell over his features. In the next second, he kissed Dean, first carefully, then fiercely. Dean closed his eyes as well and felt as if the rug was pulled from under his feet. Kissing Cas and getting lost in the rapture of it, it felt like falling, like an earthquake, a cool shower of summer rain, and Dean just couldn’t get enough of it. He hummed into their kisses, welcomed Castiel’s tongue sliding into his mouth and tickling his. Cas tilted his head and kissed Dean deeper, his moans vibrating against Dean’s mouth temptingly. Then, suddenly, Castiel pulled back, huffing and puffing, and lay down on the couch again. He closed his eyes and smiled tiredly.

“I’m a little dizzy, to be honest.”

Luckily for Cas, he couldn’t see Dean’s dark, reproachful look.

“Told you! Lemme get you something sweet for your blood sugar.”

…

In the early evening, Cas bid goodbye to Dean and Bobby, as he was going to meet up with Jo for a night out. He gave Dean a big, smacking kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair playfully, before he left the two men to watching one of the telenovelas Bobby liked so much. Bobby basically watched everything with his celebrity crush, Tori Spelling, in it – and by now, Dean had lost count how often he had watched “Beverly Hills 90210”. Dean was perfectly fine with Cas spending the evening with Jo, as he knew that it was perfectly healthy that Cas also needed time for himself and his friends – also, Dean was totally knackered, and he would probably go to bed early tonight. Indeed, Castiel returned late that night, and Dean had already fallen asleep.

On Sunday morning, however, Dean was woken up by caring, innocent kisses and a hungover Cas, who had crawled into his bed sheepishly. They dozed off again, Castiel lying comfortably in Dean’s arm – it was early forenoon when they finally managed to get out of bed for good. Bobby had cooked breakfast already when they appeared downstairs, and he seemed full of energy and adventurousness. While Cas and Dean were feasting on fluffy pancakes, Bobby placed a flyer on the kitchen table and tapped his forefinger on it decisively. Dean tilted his head to read the flyer. “Sioux Falls Butterfly House & Aquarium,” it said, and Dean knew what that meant. He caught Bobby’s expectant look.

“Come on, it will be fun,” the old man insisted. Cas was confused, judging by his facial expression.

“It’s the only saltwater aquarium in the Dakotas,” Bobby explained. “And Karen loved that place, and, well, I kinda like it, too. But I never go there alone because it just drags me down and I feel weird being there alone. I was thinking we could all pay a visit. And we could all get a break from the constant heat – they have excellent air conditioners there.”

Dean shrugged – he had been at the butterfly house and aquarium countless times with Bobby, and it wasn’t the worst thing to spend a Sunday afternoon at. And he was willing to do anything that would bring joy to the old man. He grinned at Cas and wiggled his eyebrows.

“You can even feed free-flying butterflies. It’s the next best thing to bees, am I right?”

They spent hours in the aquarium this afternoon, and it really gave Dean pleasure – he felt like a kid again when he admired the view of all kinds of fish. Also, it did him good to see Bobby leaving the house and doing something for once, as he was way too solitary for Dean’s liking. While he and Bobby simply enjoyed the animals with easygoingness, Castiel’s geekiness seemed infinite. He read every description of every animal on every plate with an unceasing interest, which just made Dean shake his head subtly. He just couldn’t comprehend the immense span of attention Castiel seemed to have, he was like a sponge absorbing information. It was nerdy, but also kind of cute.

When they came to the butterfly house, Dean set foot into it rather unwillingly. He had nothing against butterflies (who had?), but he just didn’t like that they were flying around here freely. Too often they flew over his head or brushed him briefly, and he hated nothing more than that. It made him squeamish. Also, these were tropical butterflies, not your usual butterflies, and some of them were really large, hand-sized. Castiel and Bobby, on the other hand, were having a blast. They had flowers in their hands with nectar to feed the butterflies, and both of them were grinning like mad whenever a butterfly landed on their flowers and drank. Dean watched in sheer horror, not wanting any butterfly near him. However, he was utterly fascinated and forgot about his nonsense for a moment, when the rare Morpho butterfly landed on Castiel’s flower. It was a big butterfly with deep blue wings, and when Castiel uplifted his eyes and met Dean’s, Dean realized Castiel’s eyes had the same color as the butterfly’s wings. He smiled happily, wishing he could take a picture to keep this moment in his mind forever.

…

It was Monday, and the last week of Dean’s vacation at Bobby’s had arrived. And now that it was time to go, this was the last thing Dean wanted. After a long working day, Castiel strolled into Bobby’s house, looking somewhat worn-out. He sighed as he walked into the kitchen, where Bobby and Dean were just drinking coffee. While greeting the other man, he undid his tie and helped himself to a glass of cool water. Sweat stood on his brow, as he gulped it down greedily.

Outside, it was hot and sultry – for this evening, a weather alert had been issued – but the dark storm clouds were still miles away, just bordering at the end of the horizon. Summer was reaching its zenith, and all creatures were suffering due to the ongoing heat. Dean had just the right cure in mind, and he whispered it into Castiel’s ear with a smug grin. Fifteen minutes later, they said goodbye to Bobby and excused themselves for a quick stroll before dinner – then Dean abducted his lover with a mysterious smile, and they were walking through the summery meadows hand in hand. Cas was giving him sneaking looks from time to time, squeezing his hand as an unspoken affirmation of his heart’s intentions.

“And where exactly is this remote stream you were talking about?” Castiel inquired with a skeptic frown. They had been walking for some time now, only meadows and cornfields surrounding them, and the heat hadn’t lessened. The asphalt concrete was boiling, and little heat waves flickered in the air – annoying midges, wasps, and flies were circling around them, and from time to time, they shooed them away with irritated moves. Dean winked at Castiel and grinned at him cheekily.

“I said it’s remote. That means it’s _remote_ ,” he joked, which earned him Cas’ elbow rammed into his side. He laughed and scratched the back of his head. He pointed at a nearby grove. “It’s over there, in the cluster of trees. There’s a little stony bridge in their middle, where the path is leading to, and underneath the river flows. I’ve been here countless times, and nobody ever goes there.”

A few moments later, they had come to the place. It was just like Dean had described. A steep hill led down to the stony riverbed, which was framed by larger, gray rocks here and there. Dean went first, carefully descending the slippery hill, with Castiel in tow. He held his hand and supported his weight with the strength of his upper arm, easing the way down for him. When they had reached ground level, cool humidity was in the air. They could already feel the temperature drop, it was noticeably colder down here. The evening sun was just shining through the arches of the bridge, and its yellow light created reflecting golden specks on the moving water. The river was gurgling happily, indifferent to the two humans, who were standing at its riverbed now, looking out into the clear water.

Castiel took off his shoes and socks then and rolled up his pants legs, then he smiled at Dean and carefully tiptoed into the water. Dean chuckled when Castiel set foot into the river, giving a wince. “Cold!” he gasped, then he slowly walked in a little deeper, so that the water was almost reaching up to his knees. Dean had different plans. With confidence he started unbuttoning his light button-down shirt, shoving it down his shoulders nonchalantly. He watched Castiel, who was looking out to the water, unaware of what Dean was doing. When Dean was fumbling with his belt, and when this caused a metallic noise, Castiel turned around, frowning at Dean. With big eyes, he contemplated Dean, his eyes traveling up and down Dean’s naked torso heatedly.

“Wh-what in all the world are you doing?” Castiel asked, stuttering astonished and shy. Dean gave him a feigned innocent look and pulled down his jeans and boxers in one smooth movement, exposing himself completely. He felt Castiel’s eyes wandering all over his body, saw him swallowing nervously, hungrily. Then Dean walked up to Castiel and stepped into the water next to him without even blinking an eye. Yeah, the water was damn cold, but that didn’t hinder Dean from walking further until he was nearly covered to the hips. He beheld Castiel, whose head had turned around following Dean’s movements as if paralyzed, and Dean chuckled inwardly when he saw Castiel was still staring at him, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I’m taking a bath, buddy. What do you think I’m doing?” he said kindly.

His and Castiel’s eyes met. All of Dean’s thoughts came to a halt then, all of his playfulness was put aside – he was baffled how beautiful Castiel’s looked in the evening’s dolce sunlight; the light was refracted in his gorgeous blue eyes, made them glow, and his cheeks were rosy-tinted, as if he was blushing. Dean studied Cas’ plump pink lips, and he couldn’t resist. A fierce urge to kiss these lips grew within him. He felt as if in a dream, as if in trance, as he moved his limbs to Cas, only to stop right in front of him. Automatically, he placed his wet cool hands on Castiel’s clothed hips, none of them minding that he was soaking Cas’ shirt. Dean looked him deeply in the eyes, moved by the effect it had on his lover, how aroused and agitated he seemed. Then he followed his heart’s desire and tilted his head, killed any thought of distance between them. He closed his eyes and kissed Castiel gingerly, pressing their lips together in a slow, tender kiss.

Then Castiel threw his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed him back, leaning his head to one side to kiss Dean even deeper. Dean’s fingers fled to Castiel’s shirt, and he opened every button of it with utmost care. He let his hand glide over his exposed chest, stroking his pecs and sides in pleasure. Their mouths let go of each other. Castiel placed his forehead against Dean’s, and Dean watched him close his lids, yearning consuming him as it played on his features, while Dean caressed his torso incessantly. He exhaled against Dean’s kiss-swollen lips, and his exhales were shaky. Dean slowly peeled the shirt from Castiel’s body and threw it on the riverside, sensing the goosebumps spreading all over Castiel’s skin. He kissed him again, with more force and intent this time, and felt Castiel’s hands coming down on his cheeks, holding his head as their tongues slid together lewdly. Castiel withdrew a little, just breathing for a moment. Then he looked up into Dean’s eyes, unbearable fondness in his glance as he subtly smiled at Dean. His thumb was brushing over the slight stubble of Dean’s cheek, a hot shiver ran down Dean’s spine. He drowned in Castiel’s deep blue eyes, felt as if he was dying of thirst, and only Castiel was the salvaging spring he had sought. Time stood still as they regarded one another, the water endlessly gurgling all around them.

“I’m afraid I’m falling in love with you,” Castiel said quietly, his voice low, nothing more than a whisper.

A bittersweet arrow shot through Dean’s heart at hearing Cas’ words. An immense rush of adrenaline and pure bliss got a hold of him, and he rode on this electric frenzy happily. He felt a twitchy smile coming to his lips and saw it returned on Castiel’s mouth. He just couldn’t believe that someone like Castiel had fallen for him, that he was such a lucky guy. Still, he couldn’t help but make fun of serious things, like he always did.

“You’re only saying that because I’m standing naked in front of you,” Dean deadpanned. Castiel rolled his eyes and laughed a little at that. Then he shoved Dean’s chest playfully and looked away with a cute little pout.

“You are the worst. I take everything I said back”, Cas sulked, and his sweet endearing behavior made Dean smile. Dean grabbed Castiel by the hips again and pulled him close so that they were squished together. When their eyes met again, and when Castiel read the seriousness in Dean’s look, wariness scurried over his face – as if he was afraid what Dean might say next, as if he wasn’t going to reciprocate his feelings. Dean bit on his bottom lip as he regarded this lovely creature in front of him, wondering how someone could be so sweet and hot at the same time.

“I’m in love with you, too, Cas,” he susurrated. He quickly leaned in to steal a brief kiss from Cas, enjoying the taste of him lingering on his vibrating lips. The fear of uttering his confessions loudly and acknowledging how vulnerable that made him, suddenly overwhelmed Dean. It felt as if his legs had turned to jelly, as if some kind of vicious vertigo got the better of him – he felt reassured and grounded when he leaned his forehead against Castiel’s, breathing his exhales in. “And I have no idea what to do about it,” he admitted, fighting against the wild tornadoes in his heart. Then Castiel kissed him ardently; Dean could feel Cas’ fingers combing through his short hair, fisting some strands nearly desperately, as their kisses got steamier and untamed. Panting, Cas let go of Dean’s mouth. He looked up into Dean’s face with lust-hooded eyes, a knowing expression in his glance as he scanned Dean’s features. A wry smile fled to his mouth and he winked at Dean confidently.

“I’ve got an idea what to do about it,” he said, making Dean snort with laughter. But the sounds of his laughter were swallowed quickly as clever lips stole one kiss after the other from him and made him forget about everything else. And then Castiel’s hands were roaming all over his body, caressing and exploring with an urge, that made Dean’s head spin, that bereft him of his breaths. It was nothing but liberating ecstasy floating through Dean when he felt Castiel pleasuring him, eliciting aroused low moans from him. In his delirious state, Dean kissed Castiel’s neck open-mouthed, greedily stroked along his naked back, and massaged his clothed ass. The next minutes passed by like a lucid dream. And Dean felt so good, so perfectly wrought-up with desire, that he felt as if was having an out-of-body experience.

He watched himself slowly making Castiel retreat and walk backward to the riverbank, and there on the stony beach, he laid his lover down, his hands impatiently fumbling with his partly wet trousers. When Castiel lay underneath him, Dean admired the golden pale sunlight making Castiel’s skin glow, as if he was made out of sunbeams himself. His tanned skin was glowing like an ethereal beauty, and it left Dean speechless, cut right through his heart. He touched Castiel again, but his movements were slower now, more thoughtful, and filled with veneration. Dean leaned over Castiel and kissed him with all his heart, sensing the change, that was coming over him; and from the way Castiel tensed up and how he kissed Dean back slowly, more tenderly than roughly, Dean understood that Castiel was recognizing it, too: That this wasn’t wild lust anymore, that this was something more, something delicate and most profound. He started stroking Cas with slow hard movements and watched the sensuality unfold on Castiel’s features beautifully. He loved how he threw back his head, his mouth opened to suffocated, shaky moans. They continued making out for a good while, as the river kept singing its sweet never-ending song.

When they were both spent and wonderfully exhausted, the sun was about to sink completely. Thunder was grumbling somewhere near, indicating that it was probably time to go home and seek some shelter. Cas and Dean lay side by side on the stone bank, panting and naked and grinning dizzily. Dean risked a side glance at Castiel, overjoyed about the satisfaction they had brought to one another and the confessions they had shared with each other. Even though he was worn out by their lovemaking, he couldn’t resist pecking Castiel’s stubbly cheek once more. He looked so gorgeous after an orgasm, Dean could have kissed him until the end of times. For a while, they just lay there next to each other, studying the swiftly moving dark clouds over their heads. The sky was a beautiful scenery this evening – the rays of the imminent sundown tinged the storm clouds in hues of pink, lavender, and orange. Dean had his head pillowed on his hands as he contemplated the sky. He listened to his inner voice and realized that there was nothing but peace within him, serenity. A state of mind he hadn’t had in a long, long time. Out of the blue, silly questions came to his mind, as he daydreamed about unlike future scenarios.

“Hey, Cas,” he said sleepily, hearing a “hmm” in return.

“What would you do if you had won the lottery and never had to work again?”

Castiel struggled to his elbows and sat up a little. He frowned at Dean with an enigmatic smile. Then he fiddled with a flat stone pensively, before he threw it into the river.

“I don’t know, Dean. I never actually imagined something like that, because it’s so highly improbable that it will happen,” he contemplated. Dean smirked and shook his head. Castiel was, after all, overly intellectual and more of the analytical than day-dreaming type.

“Come on, humor me.”

Cas smiled at him affectionately, then he looked out at the gurgling water again.

“I’m a simple man, Dean. I don’t want much in life, just ordinary things that would make me happy. I always wanted to own a house – not for the house itself, but to build a home in it. And I would love to have a little garden, maybe with some beehives in it. I guess I would buy myself a nice piano and continue making music. And if I don’t have to work anymore, I would love to make some time for charity work, you know? I’ve always wanted to help people. And sometimes, being a judge just doesn’t seem like I’m doing enough. So, yeah, that’s my vision of an ideal, quiet life. Nothing too fancy, huh? Did I humor you or disappoint you?”

Fondness for Cas filled Dean’s heart to the brim, made him smile gently. The image Castiel had painted him was so vividly clear in his mind’s eye… it suffused him with calmness, this perfect idyll, and he wished he and Castiel could live such a life as of now. He sat up and scooted over to Cas, threw an arm around him and leaned his head trustfully against his broad shoulder. He sighed as they both stared out at the river, wrought-up feelings overwhelming him.

“I love it, Cas,” he whispered, choked up with emotion. “You know, some day, we could build something like that together. Our own little world, Cas. You can have your garden with beehives, and I will take care of the house and everything… You can do the cooking, but I will do the dishes. We could make music together, fill the house with our songs. And it would be just us, but we would be enough…”

Dean closed his eyes and concentrated on the vision his brain was showing him. He could see everything perfectly, and it was so beautiful. He sensed Castiel wrapping an arm around his waist, too, and his fingers delved into the pliant flesh of Dean’s hip like an unspoken, secretive agreement to Dean’s proposal.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas replied quietly, his voice hoarse, “I would love that. Some day…”

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... there were enough hints there that the road might get rocky again in the coming chapters, huh? We'll see ;-)
> 
> Lemme know what you think?


	13. Check-out time 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, guys, I had to split this monstrous chapter 13 into two chapters - they will be called check-out time 1 & 2 - because it grew over 10k, and I think 2k more and it will be completed. But I think it's better to have it split, so, now, that means new content for anyone (still) reading this fic! :-)

**Chapter 13 – Check-out time**

Later this same Monday evening, Dean and Cas were strolling back to Bobby’s house leisurely. Night was falling and dusk spread over the cornfields. Dean was holding Castiel’s hand in his, and from time to time, they peeked at each other with fond smiles. Dean’s thumb constantly brushed over the back of Castiel’s hand as he fought an inner battle with himself. He knew he had to address the elephant in the room, that he finally had to talk about his imminent departure… After Castiel’s confession tonight, that he was falling in love with Dean, Dean urgently needed to know what that meant for him and Cas, if said feelings would bring birth to something more. He harrumphed nervously, then forced himself to speak.

“Cas… you know I’m leaving this week, right? Actually, this Friday, already” he started carefully. Castiel’s features became dismal as he beheld Dean with a long, thoughtful look while walking. He nodded.

“Back to Saint Louis…,” Cas finished Dean’s thought. Dean sighed and stared ahead, unable to study the obvious pain unfolding in Castiel’s deep blue eyes.

“Yeah. And I was wondering, well… after what you told me tonight – where does that leave _us_? You know?”

He was suddenly brought to a halt when Castiel stopped and tugged at his hand. It made him turn around and face the other man, who was giving him a melancholic smile. In awe, Dean watched Cas taking a step towards him, then Cas snaked his arms around Dean’s middle and pulled him closer.

“Wish I knew, Dean… I wish you didn’t have to go, that I could stay here with you forever. But, to be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing here, or where any of this is leading to,” Cas confessed – Dean was about to become confused and worried again, because what the hell was the point of falling in love with someone if you couldn’t be together? If it didn’t lead to anything more than just confessions of feelings for the other? But then Castiel placed his forehead on Dean’s shoulder and hid his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, and Dean instantly engulfed Cas in an intimate, close hug – and just like that, he was completely soothed again. Just holding Cas in his arms put all doubts and fears aside.

“All I know is how I feel about you, Dean, and that I don’t wanna let this go,” Cas whispered into Dean’s shoulder, his voice choked with emotions. Dean frowned with sympathy, then leaned his head against Castiel’s. He didn’t know what to reply to this, felt as if all his thoughts had suddenly been muted. His brain was just a static blur, and he couldn’t utter a single thing, even though the words were resting on the tip of his tongue. His heart was lulled into a deep, content sleep, pounding safely and steadily with every breath he and Cas took together. For a while, they just stood like this, tightly embracing one another, as the velvety blue of the night intensified all around them. The wind kept softly stroking through the cornfields, making them sway ever so slightly. And for a few glorious moments, Dean felt as if time had come to a halt, as if he and Cas had been given a little personal bubble of eternity to enjoy.

…

They spent the evening with Bobby watching TV. Bobby didn’t even comment when Cas cuddled up to Dean on the couch and Dean put an arm around his shoulder – he just gave Dean a meaningful smirk, whereupon Dean grinned boyishly. He felt all kinds of cozy with Cas by his side, and he was glad he didn’t have to hide how he was feeling about him in front of Bobby. After a few hours of mindless TV, Cas rubbed his eyes and couldn’t stop yawning, so Dean declared it was probably time to hit the pillows. In unison, they got up and wished Bobby a good night - Bobby only raised an eyebrow about this new habit of Dean and Cas going to bed together and wished them a good night as well. One after the other, the two men prepped for bed.

Dean was already comfortably lying in his bed in the dark (they had opted for his room by now since the mattress was better) when Cas sneaked into the room. He closed the door behind him, then lay down beside Dean carefully, his back turned to Dean. It was an unspoken, mutual understanding when Dean turned around to him and threw an arm over his middle, snuggling up to him. For a while, they seemed to accommodate to the other – the different breathing pattern, the sensation of someone else so close – but then, they melted into one another and relaxed noticeably. Dean’s head was spinning with a million thoughts, and he had difficulties sorting them or making any sense of them. To hold someone in his arm again and fall asleep in the same bed, it seemed like a little miracle to him. His mind was wide awake, but his body was tired, ready to let go. Outside, the thunderstorm was closing in on them. Again and again, it was rumbling ominously, and they could hear the crashing of flashes in the distance. Strong rainfall was pouring down, cloaking the house completely.

Dean gave a jerk when Cas placed his hand above Dean’s, which was resting right over his stomach. He squeezed Dean’s hand once, affirmatively, then pressed his head deeper into the pillow to get comfortable.

“Sleep, Dean. I can hear you overthinking,” Cas complained. It made Dean smile softly. He pressed a coy kiss into Cas’ nape, let his nose play with the strands of dark, ruffled hair before kissing it again. Yeah, Cas was probably right. He needed to stop thinking asap.

“Good night, buddy,” he murmured.

…

In the middle of the night, Dean woke with a violent start. They were in the eye of the storm now. Growling thunder made the walls vibrate, and the wind was howling eerily. But that wasn’t what had woken Dean up: Cas was tossing and turning in his sleep, obviously wrought up by a nightmare. In the electric white light of a flash, Dean got a glimpse of his pained features. He was wet through with cold sweat, his fingers clinging to the blanket. A faint agonized cry escaped his mouth. Dean sat up a little and studied the other man anxiously – he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to wake Cas up now or let him be. But seeing him so heavily suffering because of his nightmare… it was hard to stand. Then Castiel sobbed and whimpered and placed his hands over his head, as if to shield himself from blows. And then Dean understood what Castiel was dreaming about. He felt sick. He decided it was enough. With determination, he shook Cas’ upper arm repeatedly, shaking him out of his nightmare.

Cas finally woke up and regarded Dean bleary-eyed. Bewilderment was written all over his features. Then he seemed to remember what infernal dreams had plagued him, for the look in his eyes became sinister. His face turned to a mask of stone, with grimness he gritted his teeth. Without a word, he sat up in bed, threw his legs over the mattress, and turned his back to Dean. He stared out into the dark night, watching the thunderstorm raging outside. Dean studied Castiel’s taut frame, how his fingers were delving into the mattress. Once more, a glaring white flash cut through the night and lit up the room for a moment. Soft shadows flitted over Castiel’s stern features. Dean dared to scoot over, worried about his partner. Gently he placed a hand on his shoulder, sensing the rigidity of taut muscles and uptight nerves. Even though Castiel seemed calm on the outside, Dean realized his body was trembling like leaf.

“Hey, Cas… are you alright?” he asked quietly into the night, scared he might give him a start. Then Cas finally seemed to break free from his paralysis. He sighed wretchedly and let his head hang down. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw how he covered his eyes with one hand, kneading the bridge of his nose sorely afflicted. It was painfully obvious that Castiel was anything but okay. Dean grimaced unhappily, not knowing what to do to help Cas.

“No, I’m not,” Cas’ deep voice said, “and I can’t see how it can ever be alright.”

A big black hole opened up in Dean’s chest, absorbed all his hopes and dreams, as if they had never existed in the first place. Sadness overran him, trampled him down mercilessly. Deeply lost in thought, he bit on his bottom lip, worrying about Cas’ well-being. All the while, his thumb stroked along Castiel’s broad shoulder, drawing mindless circles and rubbing the soft cotton of his shirt. At last, Castiel’s aloofness ended, for he sighed again and leaned his head trustfully against Dean’s hand resting on his shoulder, as if he was seeking for his comfort – and comfort Dean could give.

“Come here,” he said quietly, and then Cas turned around to him, with big questioning eyes, looking nothing but lost and upset. Dean lay down on his side again and held up the blanket so that Cas could crawl under it with him. Instantly, Cas followed his invitation and fled to the safety of Dean’s arms. Dean tucked them both in, then he held Castiel in his arms, indifferent that the arm Cas was lying on would probably be numb tomorrow morning.

Outside, the storm had somewhat abated, but the falling rain never seemed to end. Castiel hid his face against Dean’s shoulder, breathing raggedly against his shirt. Dean could practically feel his nervousness, how he was still shaking, and feeling restless – he was probably replaying the nightmare in his head, taking it apart and analyzing it in detail. There weren’t words to give that would make the chaos in his head better, Dean knew that quite well. Gently, he stroked along Castiel’s shoulder blades and back, trying to calm him down. He heard Cas sigh again, but this time, it seemed less agonized, more relaxed, and he smiled secretly to himself when Cas pecked his neck softly. Dean wondered about the feeling of familiarity growing in his heart, how good it felt to hold Cas like that. It felt as if they belonged together, as if they were meant to console each other and take care of one another. Dean already dreaded this coming Friday, when he would have to let go of Cas, and all the joys his presence brought him – and he also worried for Cas, if he was going to be okay all on his own…

From time to time, another flash illuminated the room, but the thunderstorm seemed to travel elsewhere. The sound of the heavy rainfall lulled Dean back to sleep. In his half-asleep state, he kept stroking Castiel’s back, felt his lover becoming lax in his arms, how his breathing became slower. Soon they had dozed off again and slept all through the rest of the night.

…

Dean woke up in the early morning, way before Castiel’s alarm clock went off. Outside, early singing birds were twittering in the grayish morning light, while a red big sun was rising. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned to his side, surprised to find Castiel was wide awake and regarding Dean silently for his part. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t caught a lot of sleep this bygone night. The expression of his eyes was sinister, but the littlest of smiles tugged at his lips when their eyes met. With a gentle hand, he stroked along Dean’s cheeks, his fingertips playing with the slight stubble of Dean’s unshaved skin.

“Morning,” Cas rasped, his voice coated with fatigue. Dean moved closer and pecked Cas’ lips, letting his mouth linger on Cas’ warm one for a second while appreciating his smooth lips. The warmth of his body was coating him in small heatwaves, and his skin smelt of stony water and cleanliness. He let go of Cas then and pillowed his head again, studying the man in front of him, as he wondered what was going on in his head.

“Morning… you look like you didn’t get much sleep,” Dean commented. Cas shrugged and smiled sadly.

“You’re right. Ever since this awful nightmare, I think I only caught a few more hours in between waking hours. I’m awake for quite some time now, but I didn’t wanna get up yet. It was much funnier watching you snore and babble in your sleep.”

The slightest idea of humor appeared in Castiel’s eyes then, as they lit up a little, and it made Dean grin.

“Hey, I don’t do that.”

“Oh, yes, you do. You were talking about pancakes and burgers,” Castiel laughed. Then he sobered up again and closed his eyes. Absentmindedly, Dean let his fingers sift through the dark strands of Castiel’s smooth hair repeatedly. He toyed with it, let it run through his fingers, stroked along Castiel’s cheek, and wished he could stay with him in bed forever. When he was with him, he felt as if he was capable of anything, that nothing was going to overwhelm him. He would have been happy, hadn’t it been for the melancholy in Castiel’s features.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” he requested. He needed to know what was bothering Cas so badly.

Castiel kept his eyes closed, looked as if he was about to fall asleep again, but he started talking anyway.

“While I couldn’t sleep, I had some time to think and reflect on my next steps. You know, my future life without Aaron… and I’ve come to a decision: I’m gonna take some time off – time off from my job, and Sioux Falls, and, well, everything.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that, wondered where this sudden scheme was coming from. His heart was going head over heels in his chest, rioting against his ribcage desperately. This couldn’t be happening…

“So, what are you saying?” he asked timidly, though he actually didn’t really wanna hear the explanation. At last, Castiel opened his eyes again and met Dean’s attentive glance. Cas’ features were stoic, resolute, but the longer Dean studied him, the more he realized it was only a mask, a disguise, and underneath it, Castiel was desperate, hapless. He smiled sadly at Dean, let his thumb brush over Dean’s bottom lip tenderly, slowly. Dean felt the pain spread in his heart, felt it choke him, and he winced when Castiel’s fingertip left his mouth. Cas averted his eyes then.

“It means I’m gonna take an extensive road trip to clear my head. All I know is that I have to get away, that I have this screaming urge within me to run away, and I’m not sure when I will come back. So that means… when you have moved here, to Sioux Falls, it might be that… that I’m not there.”

Deafening silence grew in Dean’s head, there was a static noise in his ears. He regarded Castiel and didn’t know what to say. Was this really happening? It felt surreal. Disappointment mingled with understanding, with hurt, with even more questions, and this terrible question whether he had done something wrong. Whether he was the reason that Castiel needed to get away and didn’t know when and if he was going to return. Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat, tried to make sense of the situation. Finally, he found his tongue again.

“Is it… is it because of something I’ve done? Or is it because you’re afraid that I would hurt you?”

He paused, heard himself inhale shakily, nervously. Cas was now looking at him as if he was feeling sorry for him, and this upset Dean even more, because it encouraged his idea that he had done something wrong. Still, he couldn’t stop talking.

“Because you know I’m not Aaron, right? I would never do anything to hurt you…”

Cas placed a caring hand on Dean’s cheek again, caressed his skin, stroked along his temple, where his hair started, and smiled gently at him. As if his physical actions could undo the emotional damage, this collateral damage, which was just unfurling…

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Dean. And of course, I know you’re not Aaron. That’s the reason why I like you so much. And that is also the reason why I have to get away from everything, and you, specifically, for some time.”

This didn’t make a lick of sense. Dean frowned at Cas, wondering if he had lost his marbles, because he was only talking in riddles. He took Castiel’s hand in his, interlinked their fingers gently, and felt how Castiel’s fingers were twitching nervously, vibrating in his loose hold. He put his forehead against Castiel’s and closed his eyes, exhaling against the pain again and again, but it just wouldn’t go away. Why was this happening to him? Why couldn’t he, for once, just get what he wanted? Tears were stinging in his eyes. He remembered yesterday evening when he and Castiel had spent some time near the river – when Castiel had confessed that he was falling in love with him. How he had bathed in the golden evening light, how it made his eyes gleam like precious topaz gems. And what remained of this rapture? This?

“So, when you told me you were falling in love with me,” Dean heard himself mumble, his throat laced up with ache. He couldn’t even look Cas in the eye, thought all of this was a nightmare, a thing of his imagination, which would soon pass. He would soon wake up and be somewhere with Cas, where neither of them had to leave, where neither of them had insecurities about letting the other love him. There was a firm, meaningful kiss suddenly pressed against his forehead – Dean closed his lids and cherished the sensation of Castiel’s lips lingering on his skin.

“I was telling the truth, Dean. You have no idea what you mean to me, how strongly I feel about you,” Cas said, and when he pillowed his head again, he regarded Dean with an unbreakable kind smile, gentleness making his eyes glow beautifully. Dean couldn’t understand how he could hurt so badly and love someone as dearly at the same time. He felt torn in two.

„Then why are you leaving, Cas?” he whispered desperately, fighting against the pressure behind his eyes. Castiel’s fingers squeezed his hands once, firmly, as if to console Dean. He kissed Dean fleetingly, sweetly – soft and tender, but Castiel was restricting himself, holding back. Dean’s lips were tingling with the afterthought of his kiss, longed for more, but he was denied.

„I’m not ready. I need time,” Castiel replied calmly. He withdrew his forehead from Dean’s and placed both his hands on Dean’s cheeks, made him look at him. The expression of his deep blue eyes was startling Dean – there was so much agony there, mingled with yearning and love and confusion. Dean could tell Castiel desired him, that he was hungering for Dean in the same frantic manner, that he maybe even loved him as much as Dean loved him. But he couldn’t allow himself to disperse in their relationship, to be happy with Dean – he just couldn’t, and this pained Dean – not only because of his part, but because he wanted to make Castiel happy, and he simply wasn’t allowed to. Castiel smiled sadly at him. His thumbs were stroking along Dean’s cheek lovingly, a fine caress, which created goosebumps all over Dean’s skin – it was the last straw, which finally made Dean cry. He let the hot tears flow down his cheeks unashamed, and he wished he could ignore how Castiel was brushing them away so kindly, because it just made him love him more.

„I know you’re not Aaron, Dean, but Aaron hurt me badly. And I can’t just forget that or move on as if it didn’t happen… I wanna be together with you, Dean. I really do… Look at you,” Castiel said with a lopsided smirk, a fire of unbearable heat glinting in his eyes while he studied Dean. „You’re just stunning, admirable. From the way you look to the way you took care of me, what big heart you have… there’s so much I love about you,” Castiel said, and it made Dean laugh embarrassedly, despite his tears. What a start in the day, to start the day with tears and heartfelt conversations… Castiel quickly pecked his lips, humming appreciatively, but when he regarded Dean again, the bright light in his eyes had vanished, and now he looked at Dean sinisterly.

„And you deserve someone, who is _whole_. Someone, who isn’t a mess like me. I’m _broken_. Aaron damaged me, and I can’t just ignore that. I wanna put myself back together again. I wanna be the man who can be there for you, who can love you as you deserve. And right now, I know I can’t, and that wouldn’t be fair to you. So… let me go, Dean,” Castiel explained. His voice became shaky and hoarse the longer he talked, and by the end of his words, tears were welling in his eyes as well and he seemed utterly tortured. Dean huffed a laugh, felt the tears flowing abundantly. He couldn’t stand the obvious pain in Castiel’s eyes, that he was hurting, and that Dean couldn’t do a damn thing about it. How the hell was he supposed to let Castiel go? To forget about him? It was absurd, seemed impossible. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply to calm his frayed nerves. Again, his forehead fell against Castiel’s, and he cherished the heat of their skin meeting. A subtle smile crawled to his lips, then.

„I will do whatever is best for you, Cas. I can’t say I’m happy about letting you go… because, hey, you know damn well I like you, too. But I want you to heal, buddy. I want you to be alright. It will be okay, Cas. Just… if you could call every once in a while, and not forget about me, that would be nice.”

„I will never forget about you, Dean. I will never forget what you did for me, how you took care of me.”

„This sounds awfully like a permanent goodbye.”

„I don’t think it will be permanent, Dean. But I can’t promise you anything.”

„The main thing is that you get better, Cas. Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?”

„Yes.”

…

Their breakfast with Bobby was taciturn. Every now and then, Bobby gave Dean meaningful side glances, letting on that he knew trouble was brewing, that something had happened between Dean and Cas. But he was wise enough to remain silent and not ask them about it. When Castiel made ready to leave for work and arrange his imminent absence, Dean accompanied him outside to the porch. Again, Castiel declined Dean’s offer to drive him to work, for he rather wanted to take the bus – something Dean could never understand, for a bus certainly couldn’t compete with his baby.

For a moment, the two men just stood there on the porch, while the reddish morning sun struggled through the gray rain clouds and gathered strength. Castiel looked immaculate with his black suit and blue tie, carrying his trench coat in one arm. He regarded Dean attentively, his eyes scanning Dean’s features, as if he longed to read his mind, read his innermost thoughts. A melancholic smile tugged at his lips as their eyes met. There were many unspoken words hanging in the air, neither of them knowing how to address what they wanted to say. Dean plucked up his courage and inhaled deeply, then he took a step towards Cas and grabbed his free hand, let his fingers play idly with Cas’ as he kneaded them.

“You know, Cas… I just wanted to tell you that I understand you need time for yourself. No hard feelings there… because I don’t ever wanna push you into a direction you’re not comfy with. But… I just wanted to let you know that, for me, you don’t have to change. You’re awesome just the way you are,” Dean said. He gave Cas a lopsided smirk when he realized how pleased Cas was about his compliment, how he blushed endearingly and averted his eyes, smiling at the ground. His thumb brushed over Dean’s back of the hand repeatedly, giving Dean a feeling of ease and reassurance. He remembered that they weren’t fighting, that this wasn’t a fight, but that Castiel was hurting and needed time to heal.

“Thank you, Dean, you’re really kind… I know it sounds selfish, but can I ask this one thing of you? Can we please spend our last days here as if everything is okay, as if none of us is leaving? It would make my departure easier, I think… Also, I wanna enjoy the last days here with you while I can… Is this okay?”

Dean swallowed nervously, sorely touched by Castiel’s suggestion, for this was what he also wanted – to live in this illusion, just for a few more days, until it would crumble. He nodded, too wrought up to speak. Cas kissed him on his cheek then, carded a hand softly through his short hair. His ministrations were just as fleeting and gentle as the morning breeze stroking through the rustling trees. When Dean turned around to him, Cas had already made off to the road. Dean watched him walk away pensively, wondering if his next heartbreak was closing in on him.

…

It was Wednesday. Dean and Bobby walked into the courthouse. Both of them were wearing stupid smirks on their mouths at the thought of surprising Castiel at work. It had been Bobby’s idea to pay Cas a little unannounced visit and see him in action. And honestly, Dean couldn’t wait to see what Castiel looked like when he decided over law and justice and handed out sentences to criminals. They had to pass through a security check and were frisked for weapons. Dean thanked himself inwardly with a concentrated frown that he wasn’t wearing his gun at the moment. It was a bad habit, which came with his job, that he was always carrying around a loaded gun. Not that this was anything special in a weapon-besotted country like the United States, but still, when you entered a courthouse for a public hearing, it was advisable not to bring weapons with you.

The security guys checked the content of Bobby’s bag with a doubtful long look, but then they let him pass. Bobby gave Dean a triumphant grin and bumped his shoulder with his. Then they walked over to the digital information board – it listed the hearings of this day, in which room they would take place, and who would be the judge, prosecutor, and defender. Dean was impressed with the modern standard and the professional organization of this place. They easily found the room number of Castiel’s current hearing and started on their way.

They came to a wooden double door, which was closed, but they could hear voices from within. Carefully they opened the door and slipped inside quietly, not wanting to arouse attention or disturb the ongoing hearing. There were some noisy looks from other attendees when they sat down in the last row of chairs. Castiel sat at the end of the courtroom behind a dark wooden pedestal. He was wearing a black robe and loosely held the gavel in his hand while he listened to a lawyer giving his final speech. His face was nothing but grim concentration, his eyes were radiating with intelligence as he attentively listened to the woman dressed in a chic gray pantsuit.

Quickly, his eyes darted off to the new attendees, Dean and Bobby. A subtle surprised smile came to his mouth, little crow’s feet appeared around his eyes due to him smiling. There was a feisty glimmer in his blue eyes as he shook his head a little at Dean and Bobby, as if he was scolding them for being here.

Bobby produced the content of his bag and started happily chewing. He handed the bag over to Dean, inviting him to join him eating the snack they had brought. Popcorn. The sounds of them crunching popcorn was definitely audible, and Castiel gave them an intensive, incredulous death glare. Dean had to bite back the laughter arising within him. He continued eating and gave Bobby a smug smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at the older man. Bobby just smacked happily and nodded. Castiel didn’t have time to scold them, for he had to focus on his job and passing a just sentence.

The lawyer ended her speech and Castiel nodded decisively. There was a heavy silence in the room, except for Bobby and Dean munching away on the popcorn, as Castiel contemplated the accused – a skinny white young man in his early twenties, who looked somewhat terrified and lost in his way too big clothes. Then Castiel regarded the older woman on the other side of the room, who apparently had pressed charges against the young man. Her leg was wrapped in a cast, and there was a nasty abrasion on her forehead. Castiel sighed and brought his Dictaphone to his mouth.

„The parties hereto are in agreement about the negligence of the accused, whose insouciant behavior has caused the prosecutor the following damage: A broken leg, a concussion, a totaled car.”

Dean contemplated Castiel as he dictated the sentence with concentration, effortlessly quoting paragraphs, and speaking in an immaculate fluent manner. All eyes were resting on him as he meted out the punishment to Mister Garner, who slumped down in his chair somewhat: Compensation money of three thousand dollars and eighty hours of community service for the Alcoholics Anonymous. Apparently, Mister Garner had driven all boozed up and crashed into the older lady, and luckily, nothing worse had happened. Dean considered the sentence with a grin, thinking Castiel had some twisted kind of humor. Castiel hit the gavel on the block three times.

Then he leaned a little forward so that he could regard the young man sitting in front of him better. The austerity on Castiel’s features could have congealed water, but a lenient smile soon appeared on his mouth.

„Mister Garner, I hope I don’t have to see you again here at court. You might think of this sentence as harsh, but I can assure you, I could have dealt out a worse sentence. Considering the immense carelessness of your action, you can be glad that you as well as Misses Coleman are still alive. Your lawyer knows she can raise an objection to my verdict within the next two weeks, but you would be well advised to accept this verdict.”

Dean stared at Castiel, utterly baffled, bewitched. Damn. Castiel was hot when he got all dominant and rigorous like that. Also, the black robe he wore really underlined his strictness, made his beautiful blue eyes gleam with a deadly cold fire. Dean gulped thickly, as a hot shiver ran down his spine. Fantasies of him tearing this stupid robe off and undressing Castiel and just taking him there on the wooden pedestal filled his mind, made his heat swim with superb dizziness. Heat rose in his cheeks and he scratched his neck abashedly. _Inappropriate daydreaming, Dean,_ he chided himself.

All the attendees left the room when the hearing was over and Misses Coleman hobbled out on crutches, supported by her husband. Dean and Bobby stayed on their seats, and Castiel sauntered towards them with a reproachful look. He knelt down on one of the chairs in the row in front of them, his arms supported on the back of the chair as he considered the other two men with a meaningful glare.

„I can’t believe you brought popcorn to my courtroom,” he exclaimed and suddenly burst with laughter. It made Dean grin and admire the mirth gracing Castiel’s features. With a quick movement, Castiel seized the paper bag Bobby had held in his hand.

„This is confiscated,” he declared decisively. Then he opened the bag and took a handful of popcorn, to shove it into his own mouth and munch away all self-complacent. Bobby laughed – and Dean thought, if that was even possible, he loved Castiel even more than before at this moment. He wanted to worship him and lay the world to his feet.

„It was Bobby’s idea,” he defended himself childishly and pointed at Bobby, whereupon the older man just nudged him, making Dean laugh. Castiel contemplated Dean thoughtfully and squinted his eyes at him.

„Oh, and you’re such an angel?” he teased between another hand of popcorn he gobbled down. „You two really rub off on each other, and I’m not sure that this is something positive,” he ended with a good-humored wink. „What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have someplace else to be where you can annoy somebody else?”

Bobby shrugged.

„Well, life is boring and we needed a little distraction. Also, Dean really wanted to see you in action, don’t ask me why.”

Castiel frowned in disbelief.

„Life is boring, so you got to a courthouse?” he asked with a doubtful look. „Well, I can’t promise you that it will be exciting, but it’s definitely a busy day for me with a lot of variation. I always only have a five minutes break between the coming hearings, and they all deal with civil law and different types of committed crimes. Nothing too nasty, or it wouldn’t be public. Usually, a hearing takes something like a quarter of an hour, and if the parties involved can’t agree on my recommendation, there’s a second court date… so, four more hearings until my lunch break. If you want, we can have lunch together in the cafeteria, on me, of course.”

They happily agreed to Castiel’s proposal, and then the next group of attendees already joined the courtroom, all of them looking rather distressed. There was some shifting around on the chairs when everyone sat down. Castiel greeted both parties with a firm handshake and a friendly smile, then he sat down on his respective seat again and neatly arranged a stack of papers. He read out the happenings, which had led everyone here, and what crime the accused was charged with.

For the next one and a half hours, Dean observed the repetitive procedure of the hearings, absolutely stunned. This was better than TV. He had fun trying to gauge whose side he himself was on, who was telling the truth, and who was just trying to gain a benefit. All the while, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Castiel, how professional and intimidating he appeared – Cas was effortlessly emanating unquestionable, internal authority. And his knowledge and intelligence were truly awe-inspiring. He could cite legislative texts without blinking an eye. He could quickly switch between different laws and different ideas and settings, never showing a sign of getting tired. Even though the breaks between hearings were brutally short, Castiel seemed full of energy and unstoppable enthusiasm for his job. He played both ends against the middle – sometimes he was showing lenience to one side, and in the next second, he was threatening the same side with brute sentences. Dean slowly but surely understood what Castiel was doing: He was subtly forcing both parties to an amicable arrangement so that no second court dates would be necessary, so that everyone could go home with a result today.

With a lopsided smile, Dean thought he definitely wouldn’t mind Castiel reading out a verdict to him like that… He was glad he and Bobby had come here, for now, he had gotten to see another side of Cas, and he loved him even more for that. He was filled with a warm sensation of pride for Cas and how good he was at his job. It was a pleasure to watch him thrive while performing his job. Dean was deeply impressed. Once more, he wondered how someone like Cas had ended up with someone like Aaron, and how it was possible that Aaron had managed to get to Cas so badly. When Dean watched him at his job, emanating authority and intelligence easily, it was hard to imagine Cas was having nightmares and panic attacks. With a bittersweet smile, he beheld Cas, who was unaware of Dean looking at him, and Dean just wished for Castiel to heal and be whole again. Dean was ready to sacrifice all of his plans and ambitions, was ready to wait forever for Cas, just if he could be assured Cas would be fine again and happy. With a frown, Dean sat there, wondering if this was what true love felt like – to relinquish all of your own desires if that meant the best for your partner.

…

It was the early evening of Thursday, the day before Dean would have to return to Saint Louis. Time was slipping through Dean’s hand like fine sand running through his fingers. He turned his head to Cas and beheld him thoughtfully, wondering what his life without him would look like. They had just finished dinner. Dean had noticed Castiel had switched to a glass of red wine, which he usually didn’t do, as he was a lightweight regarding alcohol. With a frown, he beheld his lover, when Castiel announced he was going to get changed. Castiel had still been wearing his work clothes – black dress pants and a pristine baby-blue plaid shirt – but when he came down again, he was donned in jeans, a worn-out gray band shirt, and a red plaid unbuttoned long-sleeve. Bobby and Dean were still sitting at the kitchen table when Castiel came down again. Dean caught his eyes, the nervousness dwelling in his look. It aroused his interest. Something was up. Castiel smiled at him, but he couldn’t hide that he was strung up. As if he wanted to wipe the sweat from his palms, he let them slide over his hips and jeans, as if he wanted to wipe the tenseness away as well.

„Dean? Can you give me a lift?” he asked sweetly. Dean frowned. Where in all the world did he have to be now? He and Bobby bandied meaningful looks, both knowing something was awry.

„Sure, buddy. Where to?”

All at once, all the nervousness within Castiel vaporized and made room for nothing but certainty, determination. He darkly glared at Dean, his hands forming fists.

„Aaron’s house.”

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme know what you think! And don't tell me I didn't warn you about the possible heartbreak haha...


	14. Check-out time 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovely readers - sorry for the late update :-) I promised you an update by the end of this week, and I really pushed that deadline... This chapter has 10k... which also wasn't meant to happen, but oh well. I could have posted the chapter last Wednesday, but I wasn't happy with all of it... some parts I really like, others feel as if I'm constantly just writing "potato, potato", as if I'm braindead... :-) Now, onto said 10k...
> 
> By the way - Thanks for the lovely reviews etc. I received lately, they really made my day!
> 
> [Oh, btw, Happy 38th Birthday Jared :-) :-) :-) ]

**Chapter 14 – Check-Out time 2**

_„Dean? Can you give me a lift?” he asked sweetly. Dean frowned. Where in all the world did he have to be now? He and Bobby bandied meaningful looks, both knowing something was awry._

_„Sure, buddy. Where to?”_

_All at once, all the nervousness within Castiel vaporized and made room for nothing but certainty, determination. He darkly glared at Dean, his hands forming fists._

_„Aaron’s house.”_

Dean pressed his tongue against one of his molars, trying not to burst into a sermon what he thought of Castiel’s idea. He knew what Cas meant. What _this_ meant. Dean surely remembered the words Castiel had said when Aaron had beaten him the last time they had been at this place… He scratched the back of his head as he pondered about injured pride and everybody’s right to make their own mistakes. Who was he to hold back Cas? If anyone deserved retribution, it was him. Dean got up and clapped into his hands once.

„Alright, I’m in. Let’s roll.”

…

Twenty minutes later, Dean parked the Impala in the street right in front of Aaron’s somber-looking house. The sun was about to sink – they saw Aaron moving in the house, here and there the light was turned on. Dean killed the Impala’s engine and regarded Castiel contemplatively. Castiel was completely silent. He looked composed and sinister. There was a dark light shining in his eyes, which made Dean nothing but speechless. His posture radiated with infinite willpower, was all taut. Castiel was ready, that much was certain – he must have waited a long time for this night.

„Are you sure this is a good idea, buddy?” he asked, wanting to make sure Castiel really knew what he was doing.

Castiel turned his head to him and scowled at him.

„I’m a man of my word, Dean. And whatever happens, I want you to stay back. You can come inside with me, but you will not interfere. Promised? This is between me and Aaron. I wanna settle this once and for all.”

Dean bit on his bottom lip and nodded in agreement. Damn, Castiel surely was hot as hell when he got all fierce like that. They got out of the car and walked up the driveway to Aaron’s house. Castiel still had the key to Aaron’s place – he unceremoniously rammed the key into the lock and opened the squeaky door, letting himself and Dean in. Inside, they heard the noises of a TV. Castiel walked into the living room, his body posture taut and combat-ready. Dean followed him a few steps but stayed behind in the hallway. He could see Aaron was comfortably sitting on a recliner in front of the TV; when Castiel entered the room, Aaron got up, and his face was instantly a mask of fury.

„What the hell are you doing here? Are you looking for another proper beating?” he snarled. He planted himself right in front of Castiel, sneering at him with a spiteful look in his eyes. Dean gritted his teeth, blind with anger. He simply couldn’t believe how Aaron could talk to Castiel like that, that he was still provoking him after all he had done to him. He watched the scene attentively, ready to jump in if things got too hairy.

„Aaron, I told you, when all of this is over, I was going to kick your ass. So, here I am,” Castiel said quietly, his voice dark and menacing.

„Right,” Aaron scoffed and turned around with a laugh, „as if you had the guts for that.”

Dean smiled a little to himself about Aaron’s idiocy, for Castiel took advantage of his carelessness then. He grabbed Aaron’s shoulder and forced him physically to turn around to him. Awestruck Dean watched how punched his jaw – the repercussions of Castiel’s fist made Aaron’s head fly back. There was a deadly animalistic look in Aaron’s eyes then as he beheld Castiel for a moment, gauging his strength. Castiel didn’t wait for him to respond. Once more, his fist struck Aaron’s jaw hard, but Aaron just took the hit, seemingly unbothered. Dean gulped nervously, reminding himself that he wasn’t supposed to intervene. But when he looked at Aaron’s perfectly combed blond hair, his smug smile, the hatred gleaming in his eyes… he felt his own revulsion rising within him, his adrenaline levels soaring.

Swiftly, Aaron seized Cas’ fist in his bigger hand and held it tightly, squeezing his fingers so that Cas yelped and convulsed with pain. Aaron grinned maliciously, self-satisfied, and Dean had never hated him more than at this moment. For a few seconds, they stayed like this, Aaron smirking self-pleased at Cas, while Cas looked up at him angrily. Then Cas managed to wrestle free. He shoved Aaron, who hadn’t seen this coming, and the taller blond toppled backward over the coffee table. Castiel let go of any inhibitions then. He leaned over and struck several blows at Aaron mercilessly, beating his face to a bloody pulp. Dean swallowed nauseated when he heard the sick sounds of knuckles repeatedly meeting supple flesh. Blood splattered, Castiel’s hands were already soaked with it. Aaron’s nose was bleeding, one of his eyes had a nice shiner already. He wondered if he was supposed to step in and talk some sense into Cas before he killed the other guy with a traumatic brain injury. Then again… he remembered only too well how bad Castiel had looked when Aaron had done the same to him. The vigor of Castiel’s strokes, the grimness of his features, they spoke of the pains Castiel had endured because of Aaron, and it left Dean speechless, standing in awe.

Suddenly, Aaron was clever enough to use his legs, and he kicked Castiel against his middle. A rush of adrenaline shot through Dean as he watched his lover stagger and let go of his ex for a second. Aaron might have had a battered face, but that didn’t hinder him from quickly jumping to his feet. He clutched Castiel by his shirt and pulled him dangerously close, then he gave him a fierce headbutt. Dean grimaced when he heard the sound from bone crashing against bone. Castiel’s knees buckled and he flopped down to the ground, momentarily immobilized and dazed. Aaron fell down to his knees and started punching Castiel now, and Dean set foot into the living room. The last thing he was going to do was stand idly by while Castiel got beat up. But with a quick glance, Cas saw Dean was approaching.

„Dean, back off,” he wheezed in between hits, „this is not your fight”.

Aaron as well as Dean were taken by surprise then: Castiel grabbed both of Aaron’s wrists and held them tightly, then he raised up one knee against Aaron’s middle. With the strength of his back and upper body, he flipped himself and Aaron in a roll, so that Aaron was lying underneath Castiel again. This time, Castiel dealt out blows again and again, and he didn’t stop until Aaron was merely semi-unconscious. Dean touched Castiel’s shoulder with caution finally, wordlessly telling him it was enough. Aaron’s face looked the worse for wear, but then again, Dean thought, he had it coming. Castiel was breathing heavily as he beheld Aaron lying underneath him on the ground, beaten up and not an ounce of fighting spirit left inside. Aaron regarded Cas with a pensive look. The venom had completely vanished from his eyes as he studied Castiel attentively, almost with a sick kind of recognition.

„All these times I beat you up, and now you finally hit back?” he asked in disbelief. Castiel smiled, a rivulet of his own blood running down his jaw. A knowing look was in his eyes as they were fixed on Aaron.

„I just hoped you might change again, Aaron. I forgave you so many times, I lost count. But now I see you for who you really are. And not only did you get what you deserve – _I_ got what I deserved as well… Come, Dean, we’re leaving.”

Cas got up and walked out of the room, without ever taking another look at Aaron again. Dean was about to follow him as well, but something bothered him about leaving Aaron there on the ground just like this. He looked over his shoulder once more – he couldn’t help but want to make sure Aaron was more or less okay and that he didn’t need an ambulance. It just wasn’t in him to turn off this button that he cared about other people, whether they were total douchebags or not. It just wasn’t in him. He watched Aaron sitting up with a groan, wiping the blood away from his mouth. He glared at Dean with all the hatred he could muster.

„What do you want, huh? Wanna take a picture?” he grouched. Dean scoffed and shook his head. Some people would never change. He showed Aaron his middle finger with a faux-friendly smile, then he followed Castiel outside. Aaron wasn’t going to die, but he would remain a douchebag forever.

Castiel was waiting by the Impala, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he leaned against the car. The afterglow of sunset painted the sky in manifold colors. Dean studied the colorful display of the firmament wearing its Sunday best – it was a mixture of deep blue, orange, and delicate pink, spotted with white, distant stars everywhere. The faint light of dusk was mirrored in Castiel’s eyes as their glances met. Dean stopped right in front of Castiel and gently placed his hands on his lover’s hips. There was a feisty sparkle in Castiel’s look as he scanned Dean’s face, nothing but lust for life. Dean estimated the bruises on his face, his bleeding nose, a cut of Aaron’s fingernails on his jaw… it was nothing too bad, but it made Castiel look kind of rogue.

„How’re you doing, Cas? Are you okay?” he asked concerned and leaned in closer. When he stared down into Castiel’s eyes, feeling their hot breaths colliding, he couldn’t help but marvel at this wondrous creature, who smiled despite the blood, despite what had happened just a few moments ago. He looked as if he was at peace at last. Castiel framed Dean’s face with both hands, his eyes flitting over Dean’s lips hungrily. Dean swallowed, licked his lips in anticipation. He could sense the adrenaline rushing through Castiel’s fingers, how they were still trembling with commotion, still stained with Aaron’s blood. Castiel moved closer to Dean, his fingers tenderly gliding into Dean’s hair to the back of his head and nape. It made Dean shudder with delight. Cas’ lids drooped with desire as his lips almost touched Dean’s.

„I feel great, Dean. It felt so good to take vengeance at last…”

And with that, he closed the gap between them. His lids fell shut as he kissed Dean with all he had, nearly sweeping Dean off his feet. Castiel’s hands fisted Dean’s hair, moved his head so that he could steer Dean through their kisses. The pressure of Castiel’s mouth was exquisite as he pressed it together with Dean’s, and soon, his tongue slid into Dean’s mouth to ravage him completely. Dean’s head started spinning as he replied to the stormy kisses greedily, never tiring of kissing Cas. It was exhilarating, freeing. The metallic taste of Castiel’s blood was on his tongue, but there was a sweetness to it, which made Dean crave for more. However, a heavy stone lay in his stomach, and he was filled with bittersweet melancholy. Tomorrow, he would have to let Castiel go… As if he could hinder him from ever walking away, Dean threw his arms around Castiel’s middle while kissing him, and he embraced him tightly, their bodies squeezed together as if they were one.

…

They sat in the Impala again, and Dean steered the vehicle through the oncoming night. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the afterglow of the bygone sundown illuminating Castiel’s face beautifully. The colorful, intense light was refracted in Castiel’s gorgeous eyes, and Dean couldn’t help but smile to himself. He didn’t wanna return to Bobby’s house yet, wanted to cherish their last evening together for as long as he could. So, he directed the car to the nearest gas station, made Cas wait in the car, and bought them a sixpack of root beer. He returned to the car with a feisty grin when Cas realized what he had bought. When he sat down again and started the engine, he gave Cas a long, meaningful look, incapable of hiding the playful smirk coming to life on his lips.

Cas didn’t question his intentions and didn’t ask what his plan was, but he watched him drive the Impala attentively, as Dean directed it towards the outskirts of Sioux Falls. For almost twenty minutes, they drove along highway 42, which was straight as an arrow pointing west. Dean knew exactly where he was heading. They left the town behind and cut through rural country, with plenty of pastures and cornfields along the highway, swaying in the evening breeze. Twilight increased around them; a bluish hue tinged their surroundings. Finally, Dean parked the car on the parking lot – and now a sign showed Castiel where they were: “Wall Lake Park”. Dean killed the engine and smiled softly at his partner, who looked all kinds of wild and dangerously sexy with his bruises and the blood of his ex on his hands.

“What do you say we drink a few beers and have a quiet evening at this lake? I used to come here often when I still lived in Sioux Falls. At daytime, it’s nice to have a swim here, but in the evenings, it’s usually quiet. Since it’s pretty much surrounded by no-man’s-land, even teens are too lazy to drive here.”

Castiel grinned at him, an adventurous gleam sparkling in his deep blue eyes.

“Yes, Dean. That sounds great. Though we should probably let Bobby know we’re not killed or something.”

Dean clicked his tongue. Yeah, Cas had a point. He quickly produced his cell phone and messaged Bobby.

“Done.”

He exited the car, grabbed the beer and his keys, and grinned wickedly at Cas, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Are you coming?”

…

They started walking towards the lake’s beach, leaving the Impala behind. Cas grabbed Dean’s free hand wordlessly and interwove their fingers, giving Dean’s hand a light squeeze. After a few grassy mounds they ascended, they finally reached the long, sandy beach, which was indeed devoid of people at this hour – for most people, it was just another ordinary workday, so they didn’t spend their evening at a lake to relax. Dean stopped and took a look around, appreciating the given view. The water was clear as glass and dark blue, looked like a never-ending mirror reflecting the heaven’s tent. It greeted Dean like an old friend, spoke to him, as if its waters still remembered the younger version of him, that had spent countless days here. Dean felt reminded of so many past summers he had spent here, how he, his dad, and Sam had gone swimming here plenty of times… it had been easier times, certainly, when he had been a young adult and less burdened with the things he would experience later in life. But now that he was here with Cas, he was nothing but happy, bereft of said burdens of bygone years.

In the twilight, it was hard to recognize the whole magnitude of the lake, it was just a seemingly endless trench of water. Tugging at Cas’ hand, he led him down the sandy beach, where they walked side by side, silent for a while. At last, Dean found a nice spot to sit down, so he stopped again. A sudden thought came to his mind, and, laughing about his own silliness, he carried it out instantly. He placed the beer down, let go of Cas, and took off his shoes and sock so that he could feel the sand right underneath his bare feet. With a big grin, he wiggled his toes and regarded Cas, who was mirroring his happy grin. Dean gave a laugh when Cas followed his lead and also removed his shoes and socks. Then they both sat down on the sand, and Dean opened two beer bottles and handed Cas one. They sat side by side and stared out at the lake, while they drank their beers in companionable silence.

Dean risked a side glance at Cas, while a large variety of thoughts were traveling through his head. He wanted to lay bare all his heart to Cas, wanted to make use of this last chance to talk with him – but on the other hand, he assumed Castiel knew him by now quite well, and that he wouldn’t find any words for all this havoc inside of him. Also, what would it change if he told Cas that he loved him, that he was going to miss him, and never wanted to let him go? It wouldn’t help Castiel heal, and Dean didn’t want to be so selfish to ask Cas to stay for his sake. With a heavy sigh, he put one hand on Castiel’s thigh and squeezed it amicably, searched for his eyes. Cas looked at him, a melancholic expression in his eyes as he met Dean’s thoughtful gaze.

“So, any plans where you wanna travel to? What’s on your sightseeing list?” he asked, feigning a good mood. Cas shrugged and emptied his beer bottle with a last gulp, then placed it aside.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I have no idea where I’m going to first. For me, I think the road is my only destination.”

Dean winked at him.

“How poetic.”

His sarcasm made Cas grin and regard him fake-annoyed.

“Stop mocking me. You know it’s already hard enough for me…”

Sadness overran Dean then like a painful wave, possessed him from head to toe. He averted his eyes from Cas, couldn’t stand looking at him any longer – the inner strife in his eyes was killing Dean, hurt him more than his own breaking heart. He stared out at the lake, watched the dark water rippling as the wind stroked over its surface. Reeds were rustling in the wind softly, whispering of things Dean didn’t understand, laughing down at the frailty of humanity they would never suffer from. 

“I know, Cas. I’m sorry,” he said gently. Then Dean sensed Castiel’s hand in his hair, his fingers grabbing the back of his skull. Confused, he turned his head to Cas, who was still sitting beside him but contemplating him now with fire in his eyes, grim determination on his features.

“I don’t think you have to apologize to me for anything you did, Dean. If anybody should apologize, it’s me.”

Dean frowned at that, wondering what Castiel meant. But before he could react or think about it, Cas leaned towards him, his lids falling shut, and he placed a timid, innocent kiss on Dean’s mouth. For a moment, they held still, their lips just touching, while Cas’ hand was still resting at the back of Dean’s head. Dean concentrated on Cas’ plump smooth lips, the subtle pressure he used to kiss Dean with, and he felt like butter melting in the sun. He hummed into their kiss and returned the pressure, opened his mouth a little and started kissing Cas in earnest. Dean felt Cas tense up with arousal as his fingernails delved into Dean’s scalp. He pulled a little at Dean, and instinctively, Dean followed the seductive invitation, let his body be moved. It felt natural and wonderfully stimulating when he sat down in Cas’ lap, his hands resting on Cas’ shoulders to support his balance, and as he tilted his head down to steal one heated kiss after the other from him. The world started spinning as he got lost in their slow, deep kisses, as he felt Castiel’s hands roaming all over his body, along his back, sneaking under his T-shirt…

All of his thoughts had come to a halt when Dean let go of Cas’ mouth, both of them panting, and when he read the immense want in his lover’s eyes, unmasked and savage. Following his heart’s desires, Dean started kissing Castiel’s throat with open-mouthed, wet kisses, sucking on the delicate skin and biting into his shoulder. Cas’ hands were searching for support as they held on to Dean’s shoulders desperately, while Cas moaned quietly due to Dean’s ministrations. A fire was building up in Dean’s abdomen, started reigning over him, and he lost himself in a maelstrom of lust, sucking him in. He followed a primal instinct, as he rotated his hips, sensing the urgent need within him, as he felt Cas’ thick erection between his thighs. He swallowed nervously, as he felt Cas’ whole length pressing against his ass. Again, he kissed Castiel, but this time it was sloppy and wild as their tongues slid together, both of them moaning and groping at each other. All the while, Dean wondered what it would be like to have Cas take him, thinking that he wanted nothing else at this moment. It had been quite some time since the last time he had done this with another guy, but to hell with it…

Cas finally pulled back and looked up to Dean, huffing and puffing. Even in the faint light of the evening, Dean recognized the blush on his cheeks, his dilated pupils, his kiss-swollen wet lips. Lovingly, he used both hands to stroke through Castiel’s smooth, dark hair, ruffling it up, as he smiled down at his partner. Even though his body was on fire, aroused and craving for Cas, his heart was at ease now, certain about the intense love it felt for Cas. Even if Castiel was gone by tomorrow, he couldn’t take all of this love away with him; a great part of it would remain with Dean. Panting, Cas closed his eyes for a second, apparently trying to compose himself. His hands rested on Dean’s hips, twitching nervously from time to time, then grabbing Dean’s supple flesh through his jeans firmly.

“Dean, you gotta stop,” Cas dark voice resounded, cut through the silent night. Amused, Dean shifted his hips once more, his ass gliding along Castiel’s clothed erection on purpose.

“Why?” he said with a smirk he couldn’t suppress. He left airy, sweet kisses on Castiel’s cheeks, his forehead, his closed lids, thoroughly enjoying how aroused Cas already was.

“Because I don’t wanna take advantage of you. You know tomorrow I’ll be gone… and if you keep doing, well, _this,_ you make me wanna fuck you.”

His voice got lower and quieter with every word he said, and it created a shiver of goosebumps ghosting all over Dean’s body.

“So? I’m not complaining,” Dean said silently, challengingly, his voice chesty and suffused with desire. He brought his lips to Cas’ ear, sensing Cas wincing with lust as Dean’s lips brushed over his sensitive lobe. “Fuck me, Cas. Do it,” he whispered hotly, felt the fire within him soaring, needles and pins in his stomach. Cas pulled back a little to look into Dean’s face, gauging his seriousness – the dumbstruck expression of his aroused face, his rosy cheeks, how he was panting raggedly, it cut right through Dean’s heart, moved him to a smile. Then, laughing a little to himself, Cas started rummaging in the back pocket of his jeans, which was a little difficult, considering that Dean was still sitting in his lap.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean laughed, amused about Castiel’s concentrated mien. Cas grinned sheepishly and produced a condom and the small bottle of lube Dean knew quite well by now. Dean shook his head and laughed again.

“What’s the matter with you? Do you carry this stuff around with you all the time? Do I have to get concerned?”

Annoyed, Castiel gave him a death glare, which made Dean laugh even more inside. Cas rolled his eyes.

“No, it’s just the same jeans I wore last Saturday, and I forgot to take this out when I washed it.”

Dean shrugged and took both items out of Castiel’s hand, placed them down next to them on the sand.

“Well, lucky me”, he grinned – but then Cas kissed him hard and passionately, and the grin slipped from Dean’s mouth, and he forgot about every sensible thought for a long time. Before he finally lost all his brain cells, he broke free from Cas, though, got up, and unceremoniously took off his jeans and shorts with one move – he watched Castiel wiggling out of his jeans, too, pulling down his shorts to his knees. Dean sat down on his lap again, sighing pleased as their hot skin touched intimately. Castiel was hot and velvety against him, his dick pulsating against Dean’s flesh. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas neck and sat up on his knees, and Cas took the hint wordlessly – out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw him reaching for the bottle of lube, squeezing some of the translucent liquid onto his forefinger.

Dean swallowed nervously as Cas reached around him and looked up into his eyes, his look heated, his pupils completely dilated with lust. He felt the tip of Cas’ forefinger at his entrance, winced when Cas let it glide into his heat slowly. It felt strange, nothing like Dean remembered. Impatient, Cas immediately let another finger slide into Dean, spreading him with subtle force. Oh, yeah… that was more like it. Dean grabbled for balance, held onto Cas’ shoulders, as Cas initiated a slow rhythm, his fingers fucking into Dean and opening him up with expertise. It already felt damn good… Dean started sweating, bit on his bottom lip to avoid moaning, but failed to do so, as Cas’ fingers fucked him faster, using more force. He squirmed restlessly in Cas’ lap, moaned lewdly, and let his forehead fall against Cas’ broad shoulder.

Then Cas let go of him, touched his naked waist with both hands. Confused, Dean looked at him, marveled at the gorgeous blush on Cas’ cheeks, the embers of passion glowing in his eyes darkly. Suddenly, he used the force of his upper arms to roll them around – Dean lost his orientation momentarily, found himself lying on his back in the sand, Cas hunched over him. He frowned, but Cas just smiled mystically at him. Before he knew what was happening, Cas crawled down between his hoisted thighs, his black ruffled hair a stark contrast to Dean’s light-skinned, freckled legs.

“What are you doing,” he mumbled without rhyme or reason, but then he felt Cas’ warm, wet mouth on his dick, and the fuses in his head blew. Cas didn’t take him into his mouth yet, rather occupied himself with teasing Dean – he kissed his length open-mouthed, let his tongue lick the veiny underside, making Dean twitch and moan in turns. When Cas nibbled at the head, Dean was already writhing, one hand of his getting lost in the maze of Cas’ hair. He brushed through the smooth strands, regarded Cas’ broad shoulders mesmerized, how the muscles played together beautifully.

Then Cas took him into the hot cave of his mouth, sucking him in earnest. Wonderful dizziness overcame Dean, his head swimming, as unbearable heat shot through him. It was nothing but sweet rapture, making him forget everything. His head rolling from one side to the other, the hand in Cas’ hair gripping it tensely. He felt the pressure build and build within him, couldn’t decide if he could stand more of this perfect torture, or if he had to cave in and let his orgasm wash over him. He whimpered, raised his hips unintentionally, his body reacting to Cas’ by its own accord. Cas recognized this as another invitation to let his two fingers glide into Dean, spreading him and sucking him at the same time. Dean couldn’t stop moaning at this point, absolutely lost in powerful hot waves of delight, electrifying him from head to toe.

His lover seemed to understand he was about to break, about to be pushed over the edge. Dean was given a brief moment to breathe and to rest, collecting his last brain cells unsuccessfully, as Cas opened the condom impatiently, rolled it over his dick, and lubed it generously. Dean felt breathless, as if under a charm, as he looked up into Cas’ eyes, pained sensuality was written all over his face, his mouth slightly agape – then his hands seized Dean’s thighs and hoisted them up. Dean sensed Cas, touching his entrance, halting for a moment, as he regarded Dean with a mystic smile, nothing but devotion and love making his deep blue eyes gleam. Dean wanted to say all the things resting on the tip of his tongue at this moment, wanted to confess all of his love to Cas, but found he was simply dumbstruck with desire.

Then Cas pressed himself into Dean, his lids closing with concentration – Dean’s jaw dropped, as Cas glided into him, deeper and deeper, spreading him perfectly. He was hard and big inside Dean, throbbing within him, twitching impatiently. Dean’s body reacted accordingly, engulfing Cas and holding him tight, his sweet spot pulsating aroused as Cas’ glans pressed against it. Unintentionally, Dean’s head dropped into the sand, his body releasing all the doubts and nagging fears it had contained, and Cas started rocking into him, his rhythm slow and hard. It left Dean speechless, created a fire in his chest, which tugged at his heartstrings. He swallowed against the aching big lump in his throat, focussed on Cas’ face instead – how he beheld Dean with half-closed eyes, his dark hair sweaty, a tiny smile on his kissable, full lips… Dean raised a hand, framed Cas’ cheek with it, and pulled his face down; their mouths met and soon they were kissing slowly, passionately, while Cas made Dean lose his mind. Time seemed void; the world seemed to have stopped. The wind was whooshing through the nearby canopies of leaves, some water birds were quacking in the distance. Dean felt the sand rub into his skin with every of Cas’ strokes, felt it between his toes, how the wind stroked over their naked bodies like a delicate caress…

Suddenly, his body tensed up, reacting violently to every of Cas’ strokes. Dean heard himself whimper and moan, forgetting about his surroundings and everything else, as his fingernails dug into Cas’ shoulder blades, holding onto him for dear life. His orgasm finally caught up with him, washed through him, and the sheer intensity of it overwhelmed Dean. His cheeks blushed, and he was all hot and sweat-through when he rocked his hips to every wave surging within him. Half-consciously, he witnessed Cas trembling, then holding still perfectly, as he came, too, moaning lowly as he spilled into the condom again and again. Cas flopped down on him, huffing and puffing, sighing satisfied every now and then. A small smile appeared on Dean’s lips, he couldn’t help it, as he wrapped his arms around Cas and held him close, indifferent to their sweat mingling, indifferent that it was getting late and dark. He hand-brushed through Cas’ wet-through hair, stroked along the length of his back, drew mindless patterns on his skin… Then he kissed Cas’ temple and held him even tighter, wished they could stay here forever…

…

They didn’t get a lot of sleep this night. When they lay together in Dean’s bed, having the intention to catch some Z’s, after a while they realized none of them could sleep. They were both too strung up, anxious about tomorrow and what it and all days thereafter might bring. Then Dean gently seized Castiel’s hand and held it firmly in his, smiling at him in the bluish light of the night. The bright moonlight illuminated the room, tinged everything into precious silver and ghostly white, but it made Castiel’s eyes shine eerily beautiful, made his skin seem like valuable ivory. They got to talking, what they would do in the next days, in what districts of Sioux Falls Dean would search for an apartment of his own… for a while, they became silent again, each of them staring at the ceiling, clinging to their own thoughts and dreams about the future. Dean sighed and smiled to himself, somehow feeling well-prepared about what might come.

“You know,” he said, still smiling, “I remember something now I’ve heard a while ago. And I think it’s so true, fitting. _No amount of worrying can change the future._ Kinda applies to you and me, right, Cas?”

Cas turned around to him then, his head supported on one propped up hand. He smiled mystically at Dean, his eyes radiating with the love he felt for him.

“I will miss you, Dean. No one ever talked to me like you do. You make me feel hopeful again, even though I thought I could never feel this way again.”

Dean smiled wistfully then, worshipping Castiel and loving how gorgeous he was, how loveable. He moved closer and kissed Cas softly, enjoying the tickling sensation of his full lips against his. They broke apart for a nanosecond, drowning in each other’s eyes, and no more words were needed. Again, Dean kissed him, but now with intent and appetite. It was like a drug coursing through his veins, making him crave for more, more, more. His blood was boiling with greedy passion as he kissed Castiel slowly, his tongue gliding together with his. Automatically, his hand came up to run through Castiel’s smooth hair, fisting the strands – Cas moaned into his kiss, his whole body basically vibrated with desire. He became lax due to Dean’s caresses, allowed Dean to kiss him harder, as Dean leaned forward and kissed Castiel down into the pillows. He sensed Cas’ arms coming around his neck, holding onto him. Blindly, Dean reached for Castiel’s boxers and pulled them down.

He sat up, contemplated Cas breathlessly, as his craving for him ate him up from the inside. Quickly he took off his shirt, undressed completely, while he watched Castiel mirroring his movements, getting rid of his shirt as well. When he lay down on him again, their naked, heated bodies touching, skin on skin, it felt like coming home to Dean. Aroused he moaned, hid his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck and inhaled his lemony, soapy scent. It filled up his heart to the brim with a nameless joy he couldn’t quite put his finger on – it was a fleeting sensation, hard to understand and hard to keep, but precious and world-changing. Cas’ erection pressed against Dean’s, his precum bedewing Dean’s abdomen. Dean felt himself pulsate against Cas, his cheeks blushing hotly at the prospect of being inside of him again. Wordlessly, he touched Cas’ shoulder and sat up a little, made him turn around on his stomach gently. With reverence, he studied Cas’ back, his prominent shoulder blades, his lean ribcage, the dimples of his hips, right above the perfect curve of his ass…

Absentmindedly, Dean reached for the drawer of the nightstand, hectically producing a condom and lube. He opened the foil of the condom impatiently and rolled it over his thick, rock-hard dick, moaning as his hand stroked him carefully. He was already so pent up with desire, his heart pounding vehemently in his chest, his exhales shaky… Then he slathered his dick with plenty of lube, while his other hand stroked along the length of Castiel’s spine. He watched the goosebumps spreading everywhere on Cas’ skin. With pleasure, he regarded Castiel’s face, which was pillowed on one cheek – sensuality was written all over his lover’s fine features, his lids were shut, and his mouth stood agape, trembling as a quiet whimpered moan escaped him. Dean’s hands grabbed Cas’ ass cheeks greedily then, forcing them apart, as he slid in between, his dick taunting Cas’ entrance. Cas’ hand searched for something to hold on to, his fingers digging into the sheets, as Dean finally gave in and abandoned all control. He shoved himself into Cas with one long, slow motion, humming with pleasure about his hot velvety tightness welcoming him.

He initiated a slow rhythm, fucking deeply into Cas with long, powerful strokes. One of his hands got lost in Castiel’s messy black hair, pulling at the strands with just a little pressure, which Cas seemed to enjoy – he sighed agitatedly, high-pitched, as Dean kept filling him up to the hilt again and again. And it would have been the best thing in the world, had they been all alone in this house – but they were not, as Dean dizzily remembered. Laughing, he let his hand wander to Castiel’s mouth, covering it.

“Quiet,” he chuckled, laughing when Cas bit into his forefinger playfully. Cas grinned briefly, then his face contorted into lust-tortured sweetness again, as Dean rammed into him from a different angle. He moaned again, barely managing to keep his voice down and holding on to the sheets desperately, as Dean stimulated his sweet spot, making him lose it with each stroke. Dean’s heart was somersaulting in his chest, his breathing accelerated, as he watched Cas getting closer to his orgasm. The sight alone was arousing enough, but to feel his heat, his constricting muscles squeezing him, to hear his whimpered, faint moans… Incredible warmth spread all over Dean’s body, made him lightheaded and his cheeks burn as one electric wave after the other shook him. Rapture was reaching out for him, wonderful thoughtfulness. With an animalistic urge, he suddenly seized Castiel by the hips, made him sit up on his knees, and fucked into him with all his might. He enjoyed how Castiel subdued to his lead, how he leaned his back trustfully against Dean’s torso, letting him do whatever he wanted with him.

It was overwhelming when Cas suddenly forcefully came, a lengthy dark moan falling from his lips; he shuddered in Dean’s arms, his whole body vibrating as he let go and let his body take control. His muscles were constricting all around Dean, gripping him tightly, and then Dean felt it too, the heat, the flames licking at his spine, consuming him perfectly. All of his limbs were filled with said fire, twitching as each powerful wave of his orgasm overran him. He fucked into Cas a few more times, listened to his own breathy moans as he came. Then both of them slumped down, sweat through and utterly spent. For a while, Dean stayed inside Cas, incapable to move yet, as they basked in the glorious afterglow of their frenzy. His mind was trying to come to terms with the events and all those confusing emotions, but his brain was too tired to think properly.

At last, he rolled down and laid down beside Cas, expertly unrolling the used condom and tying it in a knot before letting it fall to the floor mindlessly. Once more, they lay side by side, staring at the ceiling, but now they were exhausted in the best way, their minds busy dealing with all the happiness hormones to worry about whatever lay ahead of them. Dean felt Cas stroking through his hair at once, gentleness resonating with each of his careful touches, and he smiled when he realized how his hairline was wet with perspiration.

“Can’t believe we have to change the sheets again,” he laughed then, hearing Cas chuckle as well. He risked a side glance at the other man and smiled. He wanted to remember Cas like this, wished he could take a picture of him and this moment with his mind’s eye – he looked relaxed, happy even, as their eyes met. Dean reached out an arm invitingly, and Cas moved closer, pillowed his head on Dean’s naked chest comfortably. He slung an arm around Dean’s middle as if he also didn’t want to let go of him, as if he was afraid someone would rob him from him while he slept. Dean fell asleep while Cas fingers kept stroking his chest idly, drawing senseless patterns on his skin…

…

The next morning after breakfast, Dean, as well as Cas, were both busy packing their stuff, each of them in their guest rooms. Bobby was just cleaning up the kitchen downstairs, humming to old rock songs playing on the radio. Dean was trying to steel his nerves as he folded his clothes into a small pile, constantly telling himself that this was alright, that it _would_ be alright, that _he_ was alright… Unfortunately, this mantra didn’t really seem to help. His head was like a battlefield, with bombs dropping on every thought, on every atom of his body. He could hear Castiel in the other room, packing his things mutely. All the familiar noises of the house Dean had gotten so accustomed to over the last weeks… he just couldn’t believe that his last day here at Bobby’s had come, that soon he would sit in his apartment in Saint Louis again, where it was always deadly quiet and lifeless.

All at once, he heard Bobby’s heavy slow footsteps on the stairs approaching. When he turned around, sensing someone looking at him, he saw Bobby leaning against the doorframe, giving him a kind smile. He returned it easily, thinking he would miss the old man. But he was going to return soon. He would take care of Bobby, just the way Bobby had taken care of him whenever his dad had failed him, whenever he had needed him to. Dean was looking forward to his life here in Sioux Falls and Bobby’s company, to be closer to his family again.

“Can’t believe I have the house all to myself by this evening,” Bobby said and wiggled his eyebrows comically. Dean grinned.

“Yeah, you can finally invite all your girls over again,” he joked and winked at him.

Bobby shrugged and looked around the room thoughtfully.

“It’s gonna be damn quiet without you boys here,” he said.

“Told you to keep it down, Cas,” Dean shouted into the other direction of the floor, which made Cas laugh, and Bobby smirk sheepishly. Somewhat embarrassed, Bobby scratched the back of his head and gave Dean an exasperated look.

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

Dean nodded and stuck out his tongue, grinning self-satisfied as he kept packing his stuff.

Then Bobby produced something from behind his back and handed it to Dean – it was a small blue envelope, the kind of envelope Dean had last seen ages ago, which were used to put developed photos in. He frowned and laughed mentally, wondered if Bobby would ever transition to the digital era or remain an analog guy forever.

“Just some photo prints of the last weeks,” Bobby explained. Smitten with amazement, Dean gently opened the envelope, which now felt like a rare treasure to him. He barely noticed how Cas walked into the room quietly, showing up behind Bobby, as Dean started thumbing the photos smiling. Bobby turned around to Cas and handed him an envelope too.

“Got some copies made for you, too, Cas. Thought you might like to take them with you. I kept some for myself as well. Well, you know me, I’m out of my depths with all this digitalized stuff,” Bobby said. Quickly Dean looked up, smiling amusedly about the flabbergasted expression on Castiel’s face. Then he focussed on the photos again. There he was, working on the shed’s roof in Bobby’s yard, grinning boyishly at the camera with a hammer in his hand.

He had to laugh about the photo with Cas, where he stood in Bobby’s backyard, his arms akimbo, and an unenthused frown on his face as he contemplated all the trash piling up in the garden. He remembered the next one quite well – it showed Cas and Dean, with Bobby in the middle, all of them sitting on Bobby’s comfortable, worn-out couch, as Bobby took a selfie of them. All of them were smiling at the camera, their eyes resonating with cheerfulness – it had been one of their laid-back movie-nights with endless popcorn and stupid western movies Dean had made them all watch. Finally, Dean came to one photo, which was like a knife to his heart, touched a sore spot. He smiled, fighting against the pressure behind his eyes, for he cherished the given view, and it made him so happy, he barely found his tongue again. It showed him and Cas on Bobby’s front porch, the scenery of summery fields behind them and a bright sun shining – Cas had one arm slung around Dean’s shoulder, and they were both smiling, their eyes lucid due to the summer’s sun. The two of them looked blithe, carefree, and the image of them together, looking like a couple, it gave Dean peace.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said, his voice choked up with emotions, “those are awesome.”

“Yes, thank you,” Castiel agreed, speaking in a soft murmur as he contemplated the photos, too. His eyes met Dean’s suddenly. There was a fierceness in his eyes, which spoke of regret, of hurt, of brokenness, and Dean nodded, as if he had wordlessly understood what Castiel meant – damn, he would miss him, too. He approached Cas automatically and left a heartfelt, gentle kiss on his cheek, felt the other man lean into his personal space, his arm coming around Dean’s hip.

…

Dean was a nervous wreck. Castiel had gone into town to run some last errands, and Dean knew, once he returned to Bobby, it would be the last time he saw him – that Cas was about to go away on his trip within the next hour or so. Dean was all twitchy, walking up and down Bobby’s living room. At last, Bobby gave him an unnerved, long glare, which made Dean sigh and sit down at the kitchen table to fetch himself another cup of coffee.

“It will be okay, Dean. You don’t have to worry about him,” Bobby comforted him, deep understanding in his eyes.

“Have you met me? How am I _not_ supposed to worry about him,” Dean protested.

“Well, worrying will get you nowhere, it will just drive you insane. He’s old enough to know what he’s doing. And even if not, it’s none of your business,” Bobby scolded. Dean chewed his bottom lip pensively, couldn’t suppress the sensation of endless, nagging concern in his guts.

“I know… I just care about him, can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know, Dean, I’m not blind,” Bobby joked with a lopsided smirk, “but going round in circles won’t help.”

They were both startled by a buzzing noise coming from outside, the roaring of a machine filling the air. It sounded suspiciously like a motorbike, and when they walked out on Bobby’s porch, they were both stunned by the image presenting itself to them: There Cas was on a black motorbike, clad in a heavy leather jacket. He just turned off the engine and dismounted, taking off his white helmet, and his ruffled black hair was uncovered. Dean’s jaw dropped at the given sight – because Cas in this black biker gear was all kinds of roguishly sexy. He was wide-eyed and shell-shocked when Cas walked up to them, grinning from ear to ear while holding his helmet underneath one arm.

“I just came to get my stuff and say goodbye,” Cas said. Cas was in and out of the house within a minute, his bag already packed. He walked past Dean and Bobby and stored his back away in the little trunk behind the seat. Then he came back to them. Dean inhaled deeply, his hand forming a fist, as he fought against his inner turmoil. He didn’t know how to feel, what to think, if he was going to be okay. He stepped aside as Cas stood in front of Bobby, giving them a little privacy. Cas studied the older man attentively, a serene smile on his mouth.

“Bobby, I just wanna say thank you for all you’ve done for me,” he started, but Bobby cut him off.

“Ah, don’t get all weepy on me, boy,” he retorted with a crooked smile. And before he saw it coming, Cas was suddenly engulfed in one of Bobby’s bear hugs. Dean watched the gratitude appearing on Cas’ features, how he relaxed noticeably and hugged Bobby back.

“Thank you, Bobby,” he reaffirmed, his voice fraught with emotions overwhelming him, and Bobby just nodded and held him tighter, reassuring him. When they let go of each other, Castiel laughed a little embarrassed. Then his eyes fell on Dean, and he reached out one hand invitingly for Dean to take. Dean felt like in a dream when he put his hand into Cas and let him lead him down the porch, to the waiting motorbike. They stopped in front of it and regarded one another. It was as if Dean was bewitched, under Castiel’s spell, detached from the here and now. When he read the serenity in Castiel’s deep blue eyes, the freedom they wordlessly spoke of, he couldn’t help but feel composed and certain, now. He smiled an honest smile, felt the happiness hormones coursing through his system when Castiel replied to his smile in the same manner. Dean winked at him.

“Has anyone ever told you how frigging hot you look in biker gear?” he teased, loving how it made Cas smirk.

“You’re an idiot,” Cas replied – Dean was about to object, but then Cas pulled him close by the lapels of his shirt. He looked up at Dean from underneath his lashes, a sensual expression lingering on his face – plain longing, mingled with a happy-go-lucky attitude. The ambiguous mixture of Castiel’s behavior was confusing Dean, for he felt the same inner strife, hopeless and full of confidence at the same time. He looked down into Cas’ eyes, their faces close, and felt their warm breathes colliding intimately. On their own, his hands fled to Cas’ hips, held him.

“Take care of yourself, Cas.”

A wistful smile crawled over Castiel’s lips briefly. He nodded.

“You, too.”

Dean smirked, despite the maelstrom of despair approaching, sucking him in.

“Do I get a farewell kiss?”

Cas’ face came closer then, and his lids fell shut slowly as he gently pressed his lips against Dean’s. Overwhelmed with burning hot rapture, Dean closed his eyes too and concentrated on the structure of Castiel’s soft lips, the taste of him. In the next second, Cas kissed him ardently, his hand holding Dean’s back of the head. Dean let Castiel assume control, as he kissed him deeply. He got weak in the knees when Castiel’s fingertips delved into his scalp and their kiss intensified. Breathless they parted, and then Cas kissed him once more, until Dean felt all dizzy with aching love and desire. Cas finally let go and beheld Dean one more time. Dean couldn’t resist and pecked Castiel’s lips one more time, making him smile into their kiss. Castiel’s hands left Dean’s body, and suddenly, Dean was all on his own again – Castiel’s aura was already becoming a memory.

“Goodbye, Dean,” Cas said, their eyes meeting once more. Then he put on his helmet, mounted the motorbike, and started it. The engine was roaring loudly. Cas turned around the motorbike skillfully, the tires screeching. Then he drove off, leaving trails of dust hanging in the air. Dean stood there, gazing after him until he was out of sight.

…

Later that day, Dean loaded the trunk of the Impala with his bags. The late afternoon was slowly merging into early evening, nocturnal birds started to caw everywhere. He and Bobby had just had an early dinner together – they had talked about Dean’s plans to move here, but neither of them had mentioned Cas or what was going through Dean’s head at the moment. They both knew he was in a bad place, his nerves lying in shambles.

Bobby came outside to say goodbye to Dean. At last, it was time to go back to Saint Louis. Dean closed the lid of his trunk with a loud click and leaned against the Impala’s shiny black frame. Bobby joined him and nudged his side amicably, searching for Dean’s eyes. He gave Dean a friendly smile, but Dean didn’t find the strength to respond to it.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Bobby asked softly. Dean shook his head.

“No, I’m not,” he admitted. “I’m far from okay… but I know it will be okay. I just need some time.”

Bobby nodded encouragingly, put a warm, heavy hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“You always will be. And if you need someone to talk to, you got my number.”

Dean dared to smile a little, though it felt out of place, strange, absurd. He turned around to hug Bobby, squeezing the old man with all his heart, whereupon Bobby just patted his back, laughing.

…

Dean started the Impala with a roaring engine, the wheels screeching. He smiled once more at Bobby and waved goodbye to him. The old man smiled back, standing on the porch, but there was a grim knowledge in his eyes, which revealed how well he understood Dean’s pain. Dean couldn’t stand the sympathy in Bobby’s eyes. He gulped down the lump forming in his throat, tried to ignore the ache. He bit on the insides of his cheeks as he drove off. In the rearview mirror, Bobby’s blue house became smaller and smaller, and Bobby stood in the driveway until Dean had pulled out of it and onto the endless highway.

He sped along the highway, night closing in around him. The summer’s heat was slowly abating as the day was ending; Dean was glad he had chosen the nighttime for the long drive back to Saint Louis, for the temperature was more tolerable now. Headlights of other cars driving in the opposite direction started blinding him. He felt as if he was in a coma, traumatized. With determination, he drove down with his foot down to the floor, ignoring all speed limits with indifference. Visions of Castiel appeared in his mind. He bit on his bottom lip, willing the images away. With erratic movements, he turned on the radio, hoping it would distract him and his mind off things. A little smile fled to his lips when he heard what song was currently playing: Black Sabbath’s „paranoid”. With satisfaction, he turned up the volume and listened to Ozzy singing, accompanied by heavy guitar riffs and a fast drum.

_Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind_

_People think I'm insane because I am frowning all the time_

_All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy_

_Think I'll lose my mind if I don't find something to pacify_

His mood, however, quickly turned grim and glum as memories of Castiel intermingled with the song, as if they went hand in hand with each other. He wiped with his hand over his face with trembling fingers, felt as if he was about to have a nervous breakdown any second now. He breathed heavily, trying to breathe the panic and the ache away, as memories and emotions started raining down on him.

_Getting Castiel’s things out of Aaron’s house. Castiel on the ground after Aaron had hit him once again. The way back to Bobby’s, Castiel mutely crying, hiding his face behind his hands, while Dean had patted his thigh and tried to wordlessly give him some support._

Dean’s heart grew heavy with bittersweet melancholy when he thought about the way Castiel had changed within the last weeks – from a beaten-up, bewildered, discouraged man, to cheerier, more composed version of himself, smiling with increasing frequency. Dean smiled a little to himself when happier moments of him and Castiel came to his mind.

_Dean saw himself dancing tango with Castiel, how the headlights illuminated his beautiful blue eyes. The fondness of Castiel’s smile as he beheld Dean, moving together with him, as their feet swiftly danced around one another. His memory took him to Bobby’s kitchen, where he stood next to Castiel at the kitchen counter, risking a cautious side glance at him, as they prepared a meal together, as they had done so many times in the bygone weeks… The grin on Castiel’s mouth while he listened to Dean talking to him… He remembered talking to Sam on the phone in the first week of Castiel’s stay, and how he had looked out of the window to regard the other man, wondering why he was so drawn to him and what he was supposed to do about it._

Dean winced with a surge of pain, gripped the wheel tighter. Ozzy kept singing, and the car was filled with loud music, but it couldn’t drown out the uproarious thundering of Dean’s heart racing in his chest, booming in his ear.

_Castiel watching him singing karaoke. Castiel kissing him on their way back home in the middle of the night, in the deserted industrial area, the orange lights shining all around him. Dean making love to him at dusk in the meadows, holding him in his arms while shoving himself deep inside of him. Castiel’s moans, his voluptuous kisses…_

Dean started shaking violently, his body becoming out of control, as he was flooded by the experiences of the last weeks he had made. He tried to get a hold of himself, but knew he wouldn’t get the upper hand of himself soon. Swiftly, he looked for a parking bay close beside the highway, and when he found one, he steered the Impala to it and parked there for a moment. There were only nocturnal dark fields around him in this no-man’s-land, not a single soul or car in sight. For a while, he just sat there and stared into the darkness, giving in to his brain playing all the events of the last weeks on repeat.

He remembered the crushing fear he had felt when he had realized he was in love with Castiel, that he had been afraid to get hurt again. _And look how well that had panned out_ , he thought to himself with a sardonic smile. He had taken the risk, he had opened up to Castiel, he had given him his all… and still, here he was, suffering and feeling like a fool. And yet, if he had a second chance to relive everything, he would do it all over again in a heartbeat. He was in love with Castiel, and he never wanted to miss the last weeks with him. And he wanted Cas to be alright, wanted that he could heal from the afflictions Aaron had caused. He hoped Castiel was okay, wherever he was now… But what Dean hadn’t considered in his calculations and his consideration for others was this: His well-being, and what _he_ wanted for himself. His heart was about to break again, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was too late now to prevent himself from another heartache. With a groan, he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel, hitting it with his forehead several times. He just couldn’t get Cas out of his head, couldn’t ignore the immense love he felt for the other man. 

Finally, Dean turned off the radio as well and listened to the all-encompassing silence whooshing in his ears. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. He was a mess, a mess… with a shake of his head, he wondered where his life was leading, what he was doing, if it was always going to be this chaotic. He closed his eyes, sensing wave after wave of pain washing over him.

It took him a good while until he felt safe to drive again. The drive back home to Saint Louis was long and left him plenty of time to mull over everything, whether he wanted to or not – the voices in his head just didn’t seem to shut up.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, I really didn't think of it as a problem [ Cas beating up Aaron because he is a judge might be a problem ] because I think what he does in his spare time shouldn't affect his work life that much, or was I that naive... also, I don't know what level of drama you were expecting from me hahaha, I just wanted Cas to get his revenge on Aaron, nothing more. HOWEVER, I can spoiler that this won't be the last time we hear from Aaron. Sighs. Won't get rid of this douchebag that easily. 
> 
> noww... tell me what you think... :-) btw, if you wanna see something specific happen in this story, lemme know. I have the outlines for the story ready and know what should happen next, but I'm happy to include your ideas if they fit!


	15. Life continues, but man, does it suck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys - awfully quiet in here :-( I was a bit disappointed about the lack of feedback on the last chapter, because I struggled with it for 2 weeks, but oh well :-) I guess it's holiday season and maybe some of you are still catching up on the 10k? Well, even so! :-) Here is a new chapter hahahaha... *spamming you with new content* - btw, I'm very proud about the chapter title I came up with, because I think it also applies to 2020 perfectly hahaha...

**Chapter 15 – Life continues, but man, does it suck**

Dean stumbled into his apartment in the middle of the night, dead-tired from the long drive. He was too exhausted to do anything than put his bags down, get out of his shoes and clothes, and brush his teeth. He regarded his reflection in the mirror, saw the fatigue etched to his features. When he was ready for bed, he yawned heartily and got under the sheets. He woke up in the late forenoon the following Saturday – in his half-awake state, he was somewhat confused about his unusual surroundings, wondering where the hell he was. Then he remembered all the miles between Sioux Falls and Saint Louis, remembered Castiel riding away on his motorcycle; and instantly, he had a heavy heart. For a while, he remained in bed, contemplating the world outside through his windows, uncertain what to do next.

At some point, he realized he couldn’t stay in bed forever, and that he had to take care of a lot of different things – and the longer he waited, the worse it got. So, he got up with a groan and looked around the apartment, which he had deserted for weeks. The place wasn’t messy, for he liked some basic orderliness and didn’t own a lot of things, but the air was stale, and dust was everywhere. Dean opened several windows and let the spicy fresh summer air enter the apartment, bringing new oxygen inside. He made himself some coffee and checked the content of his kitchen cabinets, knowing only too well that he had to do some damn grocery shopping. Then his eyes fell to the bags he had left on the floor and he groaned annoyed, sighing exasperatedly. Damn household chores. He also had to do some laundry.

For the better part of the day, Dean was busy doing household chores and cleaning his apartment. It was good that he had so much stuff to do, because it kept his brain distracted from thinking. He suppressed all memories of him and Cas, suppressed all worries about him, and where he was right now. Dean had decided not to focus on Cas, but on himself, because otherwise he feared for his sanity, feared that he couldn’t stand being without him. Functioning like a robot was a lot easier than dealing with all these terrible emotions overwhelming him. So, Dean functioned. However, when he lay in bed again this night, in the darkness, visions of Cas appeared before his mind’s eye, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He kept seeing Cas’ beautiful eyes, his gorgeous smile when he looked at Dean, and a wistful heaviness filled his heart, made him long for the other man’s presence direly. He could almost feel Cas’ kisses, could almost hear his voice again, his fingers carding gently through Dean’s hair, and his yearning for him nearly killed Dean. Frustrated about his train of thoughts, Dean shooed all those memories away determinately and willed his body to get some sleep, so that he could forget…

On Sunday, he felt a little better, more hopeful about the coming weeks, even though he knew they would be tough. His mood brightened up even more when Benny called. God, Benny, he hadn’t talked with him in weeks. Benny was his work buddy, and they also sometimes went out for a beer or barbecued in Benny’s backyard. When you had the same shift and only each other to talk, you really got to know the other quite well – and Dean and Benny had instantly taken to each other. He was a little older than Dean, and often Dean felt as if he was the older brother he had never had; they sometimes even called each other “brother” – a thought, which made Dean chuckle now, as he listened to Benny’s gruff voice over the phone.

“Hey, brother. Heard you’re back in town?”

Dean grinned.

“Yeah, back to beautiful Saint Louis. Lucky me,” he said, and his voice was laced with sarcasm. Benny acted shocked.

“Well, dear me, I thought you would have missed at least little old me,” he quipped, and now an honest smile fled to Dean’s lips. It felt damn good to hear Benny’s voice. He was a good friend and someone who knew Dean from A to Z.

“Yeah, you’re one of the reasons life here isn’t so bad,” Dean admitted and scratched the back of his head abashedly.

“Something wrong, Dean-o? I gotta hunch you’re a bit crabby.”

Dean bit on his bottom lip pensively – how was he supposed to convey all that had happened to him within the last weeks? How they had changed him and left their impression on him like deep bite marks? Benny read Dean’s silence well, comprehended immediately that things were far from ideal for Dean. His next words were friendly, and his kindness warmed Dean’s heart.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you come over later and join me and Andrea? We’re having a nice barbecue tonight, and we can catch up on everything and you tell me what’s going on. Sounds like a plan?”

“You got it, brother. See you later!”

…

Andrea welcomed Dean in the backyard of her and Benny’s house, a big smile plastered on her face. Before Dean knew what was happening, she had engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug, her thick braided hair tickling his throat. Benny manned the grill and expertly turned some sausages and veggies. He nodded at Dean and was also grinning.

“Hey, let go off my wife, you scoundrel!” he scolded. Dean let go of Andrea and held her by the arms, looking deeply into her eyes and winked at her.

“You know, if he’s being mean to you, you could always run away with me.”

Andrea laughed at that and boxed his shoulder.

They sat down around the garden table, and had a few beers, and they quickly got to talking as if no time had passed at all. Dean felt stupidly happy in their company, remembered how good it was to spend some time with his friends. Dean knew Benny even before he had met Andrea, so he knew all about how they had fallen in love, how Benny had gushed about her for countless days on end… they had moved together and married a year after they had met, and from what Dean witnessed, they were the cutest, most affectionate couple he had ever seen – except for Sam and Jess, perhaps. In their pleasant company, he forgot his own worries and the melancholy about missing Cas. Of course, both Benny and Andrea grilled him about Cas and wanted to hear all juicy details, which actually made Dean chuckle somewhat embarrassed. But he recounted most of the happenings of the last weeks, leaving out some explicit content, of course – and now, dwelling on these weeks didn’t hurt at all, but brought a lovestruck smile to Dean’s mouth, making him feel blessed to have met someone like Cas. He heard himself raving of Cas endlessly, revealing unintentionally how obviously in love he was with the other man.

“Wait, wait, wait – so you’re telling me you, Dean Winchester, actually danced tango with another guy?” Benny grinned. Dean rolled his eyes faux-annoyed, took another sip of his beer. Benny regarded him knowingly, a piercing look in his eyes.

“He really got to you, didn’t he,” he said quietly. Andrea also beheld him with a kind, encouraging smile, waiting for him to admit that he was in love with Cas. Dean shrugged his shoulders, seeing no point in hiding how he was feeling since they had guessed his heart’s direction already. He closed his eyes, was suddenly overwhelmed with a surge of terrible longing for Cas, wished he was here right now.

“Yeah, I’m head over heels in love with him,” he confessed with a sigh. When he opened his eyes again, a bittersweet sensation spread inside of him, created a lump in his throat. He breathed against the pain, but it didn’t go away. He wondered if this feeling would become a constant, annoying companion to him.

“But now he’s gone. And I don’t know when and if I will see him again, no idea. He said he needed some time to clear his head and heal after all that he’s been through, so I let him go…”

After a moment of contemplative silence, Benny leaned over to him and touched his upper arm. He squeezed it amicably and searched for Dean’s eyes. Stunned, Dean read the ease in Benny’s eyes, the certainty coming from his every pore, as he smiled carefully at Dean. In this instance, Dean was once more reminded why he liked Benny so much – his calmness, the way he could reassure people easily… Benny winked encouragingly at him.

“Hey, you two will figure it out,” he said, “I’m sure you will.”

Dean forced himself to smile as if he was believing every word Benny said. He wasn’t so sure. What if he never saw Cas again? What if Cas decided to run forever? Or that he didn’t need or want Dean as much as he wanted Cas? He sighed and changed the topic quickly, decided it was time for less glum things.

…

In the following week, Dean returned to his work and the shared shifts with Benny. Most of the time, they patrolled the districts assigned to them, checking if everything was alright. There were some annoying cases about drug dealers, which had gotten out of hand and had to be dealt with. Near one local train stations, some cases of bag-snatching had occurred, so Dean and Benny scoured about said station every other day until they finally caught some dodgy dudes. It was good to be back on the job, Dean thought, for it kept him busy, kept his mind distracted. Also, he had missed spending time with Benny and talking about anything and everything.

And the sandwich joints of Saint Louis, God, had he missed them. He stuffed his face with stupid junk food every now and then, digging in with gusto. At some point, when he was chewing his sandwich and moaning appreciatively, Benny frowned at him and asked him if he and the sandwich wanted to get a room. Dean sulked a little – okay, so he liked cholesterol maybe a little too well, so what? But then a vision of the past snatched him, made him remember all those times he had spent with Cas in Bobby’s kitchen, cooking together in companionable silence. His heart skipped a beat then, then started aching bittersweetly. He missed Cas. And even though he tried to block out all the memories of him, all the worries about him, Cas always came back to his mind.

He didn’t hear from him the whole week. They had switched numbers weeks ago. In the first days, Dean checked his phone for messages constantly, nervously, then he realized he was behaving foolishly, like a teenager with a crush. So he managed to look at his phone less often, that was a win. Also, he admitted to himself that the lack of communication was probably exactly what Castiel needed right now. Dean wasn’t going to push him. So he kept himself from writing to Cas or calling him, even though his fingers were itching to do so. He couldn’t ban the nagging, infinite worry for Cas, was constantly wondering what he was doing, if he was okay, where he was… And even though he knew that Castiel’s silence probably had nothing to do with him, Dean kept wondering if the weeks at Bobby’s had been nothing but a dream, if maybe he didn’t mean that much to Cas.

On Friday, to his surprise and delight, Sam unexpectedly called. It cheered Dean up greatly to hear his younger brother’s voice. They had talked to one another on the phone within the last weeks, from time to time, but Dean had kept his mouth shut concerning him and Cas – he hadn’t looked forward to another tirade from Sam, scolding him that he was acting unwise or maybe even just on a whim. Also, Dean hadn’t really wanted to share his assumptions with his brother, it was way too personal for him – for weeks, he and Cas had flirted and danced around one another, and only in the last two weeks, things had really become more serious. So, no, Dean hadn’t seen any point in confessing all of this to Sam. In the here and now, however, things looked different now. Dean needed someone to open up to, was a mess, and no one knew him better than his brother; they had always been able to talk to one another openly…

At last, Dean told Sam almost everything about him and Cas, how in earnest he was about the other man; his voice turned quiet when he recounted the day Castiel had left, when he had driven away on his motorbike, the tires blowing up dust. Then he became silent, contemplative, as the image of said event kept repeating in his mind’s eye. He heard Sam’s lengthy sigh at the other end of the line, and cringed painfully, knew exactly what that sound meant. He picked out the undertone of reproach, mingled with worry.

“Dean,” Sam groaned as if he was about to get a headache. Dean pictured him, knew he was probably kneading his forehead vehemently. It brought a lopsided smile to his lips.

“I know, Sammy. You told me not to go that way, but I did…,” he muttered somewhat abashed.

“Yeah, and look how that turned out,” Sam scolded. They both blew out their noses, considering the situation.

“I know. I got hurt pretty bad,” Dean scoffed, scratched the stubble on his jaw.

“Are you gonna be alright? Is there anything I can do?” Sam asked, and Dean rejoiced about his brother’s consideration.

“No, not really. But I appreciate the sentiment. Cas is gone. He’s somewhere out there, running away. I don’t know if he’ll ever stop running. There’s nothing I can really do about it but wait…”

“What will you do if he never stops running? What, if he decides not to come back to you?” Sam asked, and Dean actually winced at hearing that – it had been one of the questions he had avoided asking himself, but deep down, he knew he had to consider this option. He thought about it for a few seconds, wondered what his future life without Cas would look like. He saw visions of himself with Sam and Jess at their house, having dinner together, or how he played babysitter for Mary, or how he spent some quiet, laid-back evenings with Bobby. Yeah, he missed Cas, and he wanted him by his side – but when push came to shove, he could manage without him. His life was far from over yet, even though he had often thought so. There were so many things he was looking forward to, and he knew in the depth of his heart that he could be whole and happy again, even if it took some effort and time. He smiled to himself, felt the strength of conviction return to him, lending his soul wings.

“I will manage. I know I can be alright without him, Sammy. There’s a whole new life waiting for me in Sioux Falls, and I can’t wait to get there and live it. But I gotta admit that I pictured my future with Cas, not without him…”

He heard Sam’s soft smile through the phone.

“You’re gonna be alright, Dean, I know you will. I believe in you. After all you’ve been through, I’m sure you will also handle this situation… However, you better get your ass back to Sioux Falls, soon. Little Mary is on her way, and I want you by my side then, okay? We all do. By the way, Jess says hello.”

And then, Jess suddenly snatched the phone out of Sam’s hands and talked, giggling a little.

“Oh, Dean, you’ve _got_ to come here asap. Your brother is _useless_ ,” she laughed. “I mean, he found this really nice new place for us, and it is super cool and I can’t wait to move there. But you’ve always been the handicraftsman of the family. So, we bought this crib from IKEA, and my dear husband has no idea what to do with it!”

Dean chuckled. He loved Jess’ bubbly character – it seemed that nothing ever got her down. He comforted her with a smile plastered to his face.

“I hear you, Jessica. I’ll come as soon as I can. And then we’ll have a look at this crib together.”

“ _Thank you!”_

When Dean hung up a good while later, the sun had almost gone down. He felt a whole lot better after hearing the voices of Sam and Jess, and pouring out his heart to Sam. Lost in thought, he watched the tangerine sun sinking on a pale blue horizon. The golden evening light fell on the streets and surrounding houses and trees, created long, soft shadows. Somehow, he felt completely calm now, prepared for his new life in Sioux Falls. He looked around the surroundings he had gotten so accustomed to, the loud noises of this busy town, and felt already detached from it all. He was already becoming a stranger to this city, and soon he would be gone.

…

The first week back in Saint Louis had gone by in a flash. Dean was currently sitting in the police car with Benny, having a little lunch break. Both of them were devouring their wraps, talking in between chewing bites. Dean and Benny switched driving duty every day, and today it was Benny’s turn to drive the car; it gave Dean time to think and dwell on his inner life, once he didn’t have to pay attention to the chaotic city traffic. Now the car was parked in a quiet side street, and they had the doors opened to let some fresh air in and kill the summer heat within the vehicle. Dean thought it was time to address his plans about moving away, which were becoming more precise with every day – during the last weekend, he had searched the internet for affordable, well-kept apartments in Sioux Falls. He had told Benny about his vague plans of moving back to Sioux Falls, mostly because only Benny and his job kept him here at Saint Louis, and because he wanted to live closer to Bobby – but that seemed like a lifetime ago. He swallowed his bite and contemplated Benny, twisted his bottom lip between his teeth. Benny caught his look and gave him a meaningful glance.

“What? What’s the matter? Why so sinister?” he asked. Dean smiled a little, then he sighed, building up his courage.

“You know I told you I thought about moving back to Sioux Falls…”

“Yeah, I know. And?”

“I’m gonna pull it through, for real. I’m asking for an application for a transfer this week, and I’m already looking for an apartment. I wanna be in Sioux Falls and have everything settled before Sam’s child is born. I know they’re already moving next week, and little Mary is coming soon. Time’s flying by.”

There was a moment of silence. An unenthused expression appeared on Benny’s face, and he pouted.

“Man, I hate getting a new partner assigned,” he pointed out and gave Dean a dark look, which made Dean smirk.

“You liked me,” he pointed out, pleased about the amused grin it brought to Benny’s mouth. The older man scratched his beard and regarded Dean pensively.

“Well, I’m gonna help you, brother.”

Dean was confused. What did he mean? Benny realized Dean’s lack of understanding and rolled his eyes.

“ _Moving_ , dumbass. As if you could fit anything into that bragging black old thing you call a car.”

Dean was baffled, hadn’t planned on Benny or anyone helping him move his stuff. Also, he didn’t have the intention to move big furniture all those long miles to Sioux Falls, just a few boxes of his belongings – but even those wouldn’t all fit into the Impala’s trunk or back seat.

“You know the trip takes like nine hours, over 600 miles?” he asked incredulously. Benny’s soft smile touched his heart. As if to emphasize his willingness to help, Benny reached over to him and squeezed Dean’s shoulder affirmatively.

“Brother, Andrea can survive a weekend without me.”

Dean nodded, moved about Benny’s reliability.

“Thanks.”

For a moment, he wondered if he was doing the right thing, moving away from such a good, loyal friend. Once more, he felt torn in two, not knowing whether it was better to stay or to go.

…

Another week had almost passed; again it was Friday – Dean spent the quiet evening in his apartment with a few bottles of beer. He was sorting out all his stuff in earnest, his favorite rock tunes playing in the background, and accompanying him as he made different piles: One for things to give away, one for things to throw away, and one for things to take with him to his new home. He wanted to travel lightly, to leave all the unnecessary baggage behind. Rifling through all of his stuff made him nostalgic, brought back many happy and sad memories. It was like finding himself again, all the pieces he was made of, pieces he might have forgotten.

There were many faded photos of his mom when she had still been alive and Sam and Dean had been little. And so many photos of his dad, looking indestructible and waggish, as if nothing could ever kill him. With a pained smile, Dean placed these photos aside, touched them with reverence, for they were a priceless treasure to him. His movie collection was a pain in the ass because he knew he had way too many DVDs, and he really had to get rid of some of them. There were countless westerns with Clint Eastwood, and all of the classics with Bud Spencer and Terence Hill – they wandered to the pile for keeping, of course. But some of the horror movies had to go, though he kept most of the movies from the eighties. He was just moving on to the fantasy and sci-fi collection, starting with all the Star Wars movies, when his cell phone unexpectedly rang. He supposed it was Jess, who wanted to complain about Sam’s incapability of handiwork again, or maybe Bobby, who would scold him for not calling him – or maybe it was Benny, who wanted to invite him. Dean got up from the floor with a groan, his joints cracking after sitting on the floor for so long, and fetched his phone.

His heart was in his mouth when he saw the caller ID. He held his breath. Nervousness shot through his body. _Cas._

He picked up the phone, completely taken aback.

“Hey Cas,” he said, not knowing how to feel. He hadn’t heard from him in nearly two weeks.

“Hello Dean,” Cas’ chesty voice resounded, and it made Dean smile tentatively. Damn, it felt good to hear his voice.

“What’s up? Why you’re calling?” Dean thought he could hear Cas’ smile through the phone and it sped up his pulse.

“Just wanted to check in on you, what you’re doing, if you’re okay…”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Dean said softly, moved about Cas’ concern for him. So he wasn’t indifferent to Cas after all.

“What about you? How are you holding up?”

There was a brief second of silence, heavy with meaning.

“Depends, it changes from day to day. Some days, I’m really good, and I feel free and careless, bordering on madly happy. And other days, I can’t even get out of bed, and I wonder what I’m even doing here, if all of this is stupid and useless,” Cas admitted. His honesty changed the kind of their conversation quickly, from a nonchalant chit-chat to a more meaningful conversation. Dean sensed the change in the atmosphere, listened to Cas’ constant breathing, which soothed a part of him that had been craving for Cas ever since he had left.

“Yeah, I feel you. If I’m honest, most of the time, I’m just functioning. I’m not really allowing myself to process everything that has happened or whatever, because if I start with that…”

“… you’ll never stop,” Cas completed his sentence, having guessed perfectly what Dean meant, what he was alluding to. _Them._ And it was the truth - Dean rarely thought about what he was feeling for Cas, how much he missed him – every day, he tried his best to blind out these emotions, hopes, and memories, and he just functioned. Every night, he was glad when he had made it through another day, when he could fall asleep again and not constantly fight this battle with himself.

“Yeah, exactly. Anyway… It’s good to hear your voice, buddy. What have you been up to? Any nameable points of interest you wanna mention?”

“Well,” Cas laughed a little, “I’m currently in Wyoming. I wanna see the Rocky Mountains and pay a visit to the Yellowstone National Park. And in the last weeks, well, I saw nothing special. I just crashed in different motels and spent some time outdoors, you know, like some hobo or hippie or something…”

“Wow, I’ve never seen the Rocky Mountains.”

“What? Never? I’ll send you some photos. I’ve got a good camera with me, one of the few valuable things I possess,” Cas said kindly. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

Dean told Cas about his application for a transfer to the Sioux Falls Police Department, and that he was waiting for the approval. Then he told him about the different apartments, which had aroused his interest, and in which districts of Sioux Falls they were located.

“My brother Sam and his wife will move to Sioux Falls next week already, and Sam promised he would have a look at these apartments, so that I don’t have to make the journey unnecessarily. Ugh, at the moment, you actually caught me right in the middle of sorting out my stuff. It’s a never-ending story. I think it will take days to unclutter everything.”

Cas had been listening attentively and quietly, but now he spoke again.

“Oh, Dean, you should have said something. I’m keeping you from tidying out.”

“No, don’t worry. You’re a very welcome distraction,” Dean grinned, “I needed a break anyway. It’s exhausting to go through all this memorabilia…”

Dean listened to Cas falling quiet. He could exactly imagine the pensive look of his deep blue eyes. Dean’s eyes fell on the photo he kept on the kitchen counter, framed and leaned against the coffee brewer – the photo of him and Cas on Bobby’s porch in the sunlight, their eyes glowing with happiness and light. Every morning when he made himself a cup of coffee, he allowed himself a few minutes to regard said photo and dwell on his thoughts about Cas – the only time of the day when he actively made room for him in his mind and heart.

“Yes, I know what you mean. Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the past, or to realize that what you thought was in the present has actually become the past in the meantime…,” Cas muttered absentmindedly. His complicated way of thinking amused Dean.

“I have no idea what the hell you’re saying,” he said with a grin. It slipped from his mouth, however, when he heard Cas’ next words, as he heard the wrecked sigh from the other man.

“I miss you, Dean… that’s what I’m saying.”

Dean swallowed nervously. A huge, aching lump was forming in his throat, took his breath away. Cas had touched a sore spot, and suddenly, Dean felt overwhelmed, helplessly exposed to all those emotions he had tried to run away from. The dam was about to break and its waters were about to drown Dean. He took a deep breath, felt as if he couldn’t get oxygen into his lungs properly, as if he was going to suffocate. All at once, a different emotion awoke within him, fought against this damn feeling of helplessness – it was bordering close on anger, frustration.

“Let’s not go there,” he said quietly, dangerously and determined. Cas didn’t get it, didn’t hear the warning tone in his words. He gritted his teeth as Cas kept talking, his words passionate, oozing with the love he felt for Dean.

“Why not? Don’t you miss me too? You have no idea how often I thought of you, I think of you all the time… and I tell myself not to, but I can’t help it.”

Dean scoffed dissatisfied, not liking the direction this conversation was heading to, how it made him feel. His body was trembling as he tried to contain all the words resting on the tip of his tongue. He was about to explode.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m thinking about you all the time, too, Cas, whether I want to or not. But it’s no good, right? Because, newsflash: You’re not here!” he finally said with a good amount of irritation, his words sounding harsh even to his own ears. He kind of regretted having said anything immediately – another part of him felt good about this tantrum, all that pent-up anger finally unleashed. He heard Cas’ erratic breaths through the line, and it was like a dagger through his heart. He hadn’t meant to hurt him. The next time Cas spoke, his voice was shaky, corded up with pain, and he sounded close to tears. Dean felt like the biggest jerk of all time.

“I’m sorry, Dean. You know I’m in love with you, that hasn’t changed…”

Still, Dean couldn’t back down and cut Cas some slack.

“Then why aren’t you here, Cas?” he asked quietly, despair and yearning ringing in his voice. His question hadn’t been truly meant, for he already knew the answer and actually didn’t wanna hear it.

“You know why, Dean. It hasn’t got anything to do with you.”

“But it still affects me! Am I not allowed to get upset about that? Doesn’t it matter how I feel?” he yelled, and now he was ashamed of himself and his behavior. For a moment, he thought he was standing next to himself, watching this terrible person defending its wounded, egoistic heart – he awfully felt like a copy of his father when he had been drunk and in rage. He was panting raggedly, trying to control himself. He heard Cas sniffling, and now he was damn sure he had made the other man cry. Great. The last thing he had wanted. He felt sorry, but his head was all over the place, and his heart was protesting, knocking against his ribcage as if it wanted to tell him that it had enough and wanted to leave. Cas next words were choked with pain, his voice trembling while he cried and sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I never meant to put you through this… When I got involved with you, I thought I was ready. But obviously, I wasn’t. If it messes with you so badly, maybe it’s better if we won’t hear from each other for a while…”

Dean knew exactly what was happening right now – wide-eyed, he witnessed the calamity approaching, its claws reaching out for him. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

“Cas, wait-,” he tried to intervene, but then Cas said “Goodbye, Dean” and hung up. Dean listened to the ongoing toot of the deadline, utterly shell-shocked. He sank down on his knees, the cell phone in his hand nearly forgotten; he stared at the different piles of his belongings in front of him. He felt horrible, utterly unwanted, and stupid, and insensitive. Still, the anger wouldn’t go away. In the next second, he grabbed the pile of things to throw away, and he threw the stuff through the apartment, ripped everything apart with his bare hands. After a few minutes, the apartment was a chaos, and Dean was standing there, sweat-through, panting, feeling dizzy. He sat down, once more trying to calm down. He was hurting so badly, and now he had hurt the man he loved, had scared him away. He cradled his head in his hands, fought against the pressure behind his eyes.

…

A few hours later, it was close to midnight, Dean lay in his bed, attempting in vain to fall asleep. He kept thinking about Cas and their conversation, it played on repeat in his mind. He couldn’t shake this awful feeling within him, it was like a black hole opening in his stomach and swallowing every good emotion he had ever felt. Suddenly, his phone beeped. With a frown, he turned around and fetched it. Who was writing to him this late at night? His heart somersaulted, rejoiced hopefully when he read Cas’ name.

_I’m sorry I hung up on you. It was just a little too much for me. I can’t stand you shouting at me - Cas_

Dean breathed through several times, building up his courage. Okay, this was good. Cas obviously wanted to fix this, wanted to get over this fight. Dean knew he had a one-time chance now to repair the damage he had caused, and he didn’t want to screw this up. His fingers fled to the touchscreen and he typed away. He read the message three times before he pressed on “send”.

_No, Cas. I’m sorry I exploded and for what I said. It was selfish and childish. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I’m sorry._

On the screen, he saw Castiel was instantly replying, writing. Dean smiled a little. It seemed they were talking again.

_If anyone is selfish, it’s me, Dean. You’re right. I just took off. You’re allowed to feel pissed at me. I really miss you, so, so much, you have no idea._

This one hit differently, made Dean’s heart ache with melancholia, unspeakable yearning.

_I miss you, too. Wish you were here. We’re in this together, buddy. You don’t have to do this all alone, Cas. I know you need time, but if you ever wanna talk, I’m here._

He smiled at the phone now, tried to imagine Cas in his bed, wherever he was, staring at his phone, too. Suddenly, all the miles between them seemed like a trifle, and he felt so close to Cas again. As if he just had to turn around and he would be there. He direly hoped his patience would suffice, that he wouldn’t go mad with every day he didn’t see Cas.

_Don’t make me cry again. You’re too sweet… Thank you, Dean. I think I can sleep now. Talk to you soon. Goodnight._

At last, the load was taken off Dean’s mind, and he felt at ease again.

_Take care, angel. I can’t wait to see you again. Goodnight._

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* I hurt myself a little with this chapter's content. Lemme know what you think please :-)


	16. Maybe there is hope after all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so the next one is another monster chapter. I wrote it in lightning speed, and learned how persistent I can be when on a deadline. Nice, okay. Hysterical laughter. Okay, so there will be 18 chapters of this story PLUS two lengthy bonus chapters as time stamps, I can tell that already - so some of you might have noticed that I changed the number of chapters to 20. I hope this chapter is as satisfying for you to read as it was to me writing it - certainly not perfect, but I think I tied up a few loose ends.

**Chapter 16 –** **Maybe there is hope after all**

In the next days, it was noticeably quiet between them. Neither Cas nor Dean had the nerve or courage to write to one another – and maybe, Dean thought, this was a good thing for them both to calm down again, take a step back. He definitely didn’t want to upset Cas again or guilt-trip him for taking some time for himself. Not gonna happen. At the moment, Dean’s heart was all over the place, he didn’t trust himself, didn’t know if he was going to explode in rage mode again. So he kept his distance. And Cas probably had a lot on his plate, too, a lot of things to digest and process. He would come around whenever he was ready, Dean was certain of it – he just had to be patient and give him some space.

In the meantime, the world wasn’t ending, and there was work, and plenty of things to take care of. On Monday afternoon, Dean got the approval for his planned transfer – he received the document from the office and held it in his hands with mixed feelings. On the one side, he was frigging thrilled, couldn’t wait to pack his things and get the hell away from Saint Louis for good. But he would miss Benny and Andrea, and Saint Louis was tied to some of the best memories he had experienced together with Lisa. It seemed so final to shut that door, to say goodbye to this past version of himself. He felt like shedding his skin, as if he was evolving, but his skin was all raw and tender still, not quite ready for the roughness of this new kind of reality.

He called Sammy in the evening and reported on the good news, smiled happily when he heard Sam congratulating him. He could tell Sam was relieved that everything was going according to Dean’s plan, that this was really happening. Dean had looked up a few apartments already, which looked promising, and Sam offered to check them out and maybe even video call Dean while he viewed the apartments. Dean agreed gladly, pleasantly surprised and confused about the possibilities of this new era of digitalization. Apparently, the internet wasn’t for watching porn only anymore.

He had decided on five apartments so far, and if any of them agreed with him, he was going to move immediately. Therefore, he spent the evenings after work packing moving boxes already. His sorted out and reduced collection of tapes, DVDs, vinyl discs, and CDs filled four moving boxes alone – he regarded them darkly, wondering if maybe secretly he was a hoarder and that maybe he should have gotten rid of more stuff. When he packed his winter clothes, he was relieved it were only two moving boxes, so it seemed, he didn’t have that much stuff after all. He wasn’t going to move all those endless miles with furniture – he didn’t have the necessary space in either Benny’s van or his Impala, and Dean knew he could get a new bed, wardrobe and other furniture easily everywhere, and mostly rather cheap in second-hand stores. So, no furniture would come along. Luckily, his landlord didn’t make a big fuss when Dean terminated the leasing contract and told him the furniture would stay in the apartment. Now the time was really ticking, and Dean felt it running swiftly, like sand running through his hand. His leasing contract had a three month’s notice – in that time, he hoped to have signed the contract to a new apartment and to have moved back to Sioux Falls.

On Wednesday in the early evening, Sam called, and they had a little marathon of viewing appointments. It was the weirdest thing ever for Dean to be taken along to all these buildings and apartments via video call and how he was introduced to the landlords over the screen of Sam’s phone. Kind of weird, but also kind of cool. It definitely outweighed the disadvantages of driving over 600 miles. The first two apartments looked a lot crappier in reality than the photos had displayed online, and Dean noticed water spots here and there, outrageous bathrooms, and leaky pipes. He and Sam saw eye to eye with each other that these apartments were disastrous, and they scratched them off the list.

But the third apartment was the real deal, Dean immediately felt it in his guts. It lay in a quiet dead-end street in a well-kempt district of Sioux Falls; Sam’s giant feet led Dean towards the entry of the three-story house, which harbored only four tenants, three on every tier, and one in the attic. An elderly, kind-looking chubby lady with a sweet smile greeted Sam, and Dean over the phone, and showed them around. It was a two-room apartment, just like Dean had in Saint Louis, plus a small kitchen and a good-sized bathroom with a window and a spacious tub. The rooms were bright and well-tended, the walls white, the laminate dark gray, and the built-in kitchenette was within the monthly rent already. The whole place appealed to Dean – despite all the logical reasons and its obvious advantages – just having a look at this apartment created a sense of cozy, warm well-being within him. He trusted his gut feeling. At the end of the tour, he gave his firm promise, and the old lady was just as thrilled as Dean and Sam were. She told Dean she would send him the contract via mail. So, this was settled then.

When Dean and Sam hung up a good while later, Dean couldn’t believe the immense, lasting felicity suffusing him from head to toe. He couldn’t get that damn grin out of his face. It felt so good to finally know where he was going to live, when he was going to move, to see his plans taking shape. The whole night, he dreamed of this new apartment, pictured himself in it, how he would decorate it, how he would spend his time there… he knew it probably wouldn’t be the last time he moved, but he was sure he would live there happily for a good while.

…

The future, or present, looked even brighter on Thursday afternoon. Out of the blue, Cas messaged him. Dean opened his messenger – with glee, he detected the series of photos Cas had sent him. He laughed a little to himself, which aroused Benny’s interest. Again, they were sitting in the parked police car and had their lunch break, this time chewing cheeseburgers complacently. The photos were all taken at the Rocky Mountains, Dean recognized the mountain chain immediately. The scenery was spectacular: Clear mountain lakes, a crystal blue sky, imposing mounts standing shoulder to shoulder, their heads covered in snow…

Dean thumbed through the photos, enjoying each of them. He felt a strange kind of peace growing within him; for a moment, he thought he was there with Cas, too, savoring the beauty of nature and the seclusion of it. Melancholy filled him, he wistfully wished he was at Cas’ side right now. Then he came across a selfie of Cas. It made him smile softly, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Cas had his eyes closed against the sun, his face bathed in the bright rays of light. In the background, the Rocky Mountains were, and a lake glistened in the sunlight. Cas’ dark hair was tousled by the wind, and he was smiling placidly, as if he had found the freedom and peace he had been looking for. Dean felt a twinge in his heart, missed Cas so bad, it corded up his throat with bittersweet pain. Despite all the serenity on Castiel’s features, the words he sent Dean spoke of a familiar emotion.

_How’re you doing, Dean? As promised, photos of the Rocky Mountains. I arrived here this morning. It’s beautiful. Wish you were here to enjoy the view with me._

For a second, he munched his cheeseburger, wondering what to reply. He gave Benny a meaningful look, a boyish smirk on his mouth, then he typed away. Benny rolled his eyes.

“Oh, it’s Cas. Got it,” he muttered.

_I’m doing peachy, Cas. What about you? Are you okay? You’re right, those mountains look awesome. Wish I was there, too. Instead, I’m stuck in a police car with stuffy air, but there’s plenty of cheeseburgers. By the way, found a nice apartment in Sioux Falls yesterday, contract already on the way._

Dean was a bit curious about his sudden talkativeness. Maybe it was the many last days of radio silence between him and Cas he needed to compensate. A warm wave of excitement made his heart jump as he realized Cas was online and already replying to him.

_I think I did the right thing, Dean. Not feeling great all the time, but definitely better with each day. I’m happy for you, it’s good to hear you found an apartment. When will you move? Do you have pictures?_

All kinds of naughty ideas sprung to Dean’s mind when he read Castiel’s last question, and he couldn’t help himself.

_Oh, I have all kinds of pictures ;-) Yeah, I think you’re doing the right thing, too, Cas. You definitely look more relaxed, it suits you… Well, I have pictures of the apartment indeed. What do you say we give a phone call another try? This evening?_

Dean let out an amorous long sigh when he read Cas’ reply. He felt stupidly in love, giddy with pleasure.

_It’s a date. Call me when you’re off the clock._

…

Dean was rather tensed up when he called Cas after work, but this nervousness soon evaporated into thin air. There was no reason for Dean’s worry, for this time, he and Castiel talked all calm and relaxed. Not one loud word was uttered, there wasn’t any mentioning of wounded pride or aching yearning for the other. They just talked and talked, and time flew by as they chatted blithely. Somehow, their topic changed to their favorite movies, and then Dean listened to himself gush over classic westerns and eighties’ horror movies, laughing and arguing enthusiastically with Cas why a movie sucked or didn’t suck. It felt as if he was talking with a long lost friend, and all worries and tensions faded away from Dean’s mind. After a while, their conversation became softer, though, quieter, as it got late and they grew tired. Cas yawned heartily, making Dean smile with tenderness.

“You know, last night I was at the motel’s bar, and there was this guy seriously hitting on me,” Cas said out of the blue. Dean frowned, sensed the stinging tugging in his heart. Why did Castiel mention this? Did he try to make Dean jealous?

“Well, glad to hear you’re back in the game,” he said, putting on a cool façade, as if this didn’t bother him at all. “For a brief moment there I thought you and I had a go at it, but if I’m not your choice, well, no hard feelings.”

Stunned silence met him, and Dean didn’t know what to think of it. Was Cas pissed at him? Had he said something wrong? Then there was a long, unnerved sigh.

“Dean, don’t be stupid,” Cas said, sounding as if he was getting a severe headache. “I turned that guy down, obviously. You are the only one I want, the only one I can think about. I thought you knew that by now. I miss you so much right now… if you were here…”

Dean smiled secretly to himself, Cas’ words a blessing to his soul. Just to know that someone was out there, who loved him and desired him, it made Dean feel less alone in the world. He inhaled deeply, clinging to Castiel’s dreamy voice drifting off, painting a picture in Dean’s mind.

“Yeah? What would you do if I were there?” he asked cheekily. Cas chuckled.

“I’d kiss you until we’re both dizzy, and hug you until my arms go numb,” he laughed a little, making Dean smile full of melancholy. For a moment, they remained silent, both of them considering the idea of being together again…

“I miss you, too, Cas”, Dean whispered into the phone. “We’ll figure this out someday, somehow.”

Cas sounded deeply moved, choked with emotion, when he replied, his voice hoarse.

“Yes, I know we will, Dean.”

…

Dean and Cas continued writing to each other several times each week. Cas frequently sent Dean photos of his current whereabouts, with beautiful views of the surrounding landscape. They were pretty to look at, but Dean especially was fond of every selfie Cas sent him, when he could see the beloved face of him again. It warmed and calmed his heart to see him smile on almost every photo; he was reassured that Cas was okay, that he was healing step by step, and not taking this extensive solo-trip in vain.

Sometimes, when they kept on writing and writing eagerly, after a while either of them proposed that it was probably easier to call the other, so they also talked over the phone every now and then. Their conversations were unwound and casual, but sometimes they drifted off to more profound topics, and Dean suddenly found himself severely entangled in animated philosophical, religious or political discussions – and before they realized it, they often talked deep into the night, their ears warmed up through holding the phone against it. Two or three hours of a phone call had become the norm by now. Dean was glad about it. He loved listening to Cas’ voice, to hear about the strange branches of his mind, his view on things. Also, even though Dean was good at small talk, he loved these profound conversations even more. They had a special place in his heart, for Dean knew it was rare and hard to find someone you could talk so freely and effortlessly to about anything and everything.

On this night, however, things took a different turn – he had just slipped under the covers, forcing himself to hit the sack, but for some reason, he was wide awake, couldn’t sleep yet. It was as if someone was calling out for him, as if someone needed his help. Frowning, he wondered about this weird sensation. Then his phone vibrated, confirming his hunch. It was Cas.

_Hey, Dean, hope it’s not a bad timing. Remember when you told me if I needed someone to talk, you’d be there?_

Dean inhaled deeply, immediately overcome with worry. This didn’t sound good at all. He typed away.

_Sure, I’m here. What’s going on? You’re not feeling well?_

It took a moment until Cas replied, probably building up his courage to confess whatever it was what bothered him.

_Not so good, to be honest._

Dean replied instantly, grim determination on his features. He had work tomorrow, but he couldn’t sleep anyway – if something was wrong with Cas, he needed to know, needed to make sure he could somehow help him get better.

_Call me._

In next to no time, his phone rang, and he answered it.

“Hey, Cas,” he said breathlessly, “what’s going on?”

He heard Castiel’s unsteady exhales, the shudder in his every breath. He sounded upset.

“Hello, Dean,” his chesty, hoarse voice resounded, brought a subtle smile to Dean’s lips. “I’m sorry… I hope I didn’t wake you up or whatever. I… I guess I have a little nervous breakdown, and I just needed to talk to you, hear your voice.”

Dean’s smile turned wistful, his sympathy for Castiel blossoming in his heart, weighing heavy on him. Damn it. He wished he could be right where Castiel was, bring him comfort easily. Over the phone, it was always difficult to lend support.

“Cas, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. I couldn’t sleep anyway. Glad you called, man… Hit me. What’s going on?”

Cas sighed lengthily, then laughed a little embarrassed. He sounded close to tears, completely wrecked. His voice was choked up with emotion, trembling, as he nervously reported.

“I was already asleep, but then I had another nightmare about Aaron. I dream about him almost every night. Most of the time, it’s okay, I can deal with it, but sometimes those nightmares… they’re hard to stand. And tonight was one of the worse versions… and when I woke up, for a moment I thought I was back in the old house with Aaron, exposed to him, beat up, all bloody, and just waiting for him to return and continue. He often did that – beating me up, taking a break to get even drunker, and then coming back to me…”

Dean swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. Even through the phone, he sensed the intensity of Cas’ agony, how he was still suffering because of what Aaron had done to him. For a moment, they remained silent, until Castiel chuckled helplessly.

“You must think I’m pathetic. I’m a grown man, I can defend myself, and here I am, a nervous wreck…”

“No, Cas, come on,” Dean objected, “I know you. You’re not defenseless, you’re not a damsel, or, well, _dude_ , in distress that needs saving. I saw what you did to him, Cas, you beat the crap out of Aaron, just like he deserved. You got away, Cas, you got out there alive. I don’t think you realize how lucky you are to leave all of that crap behind, that all of this is in the past now. But, sure, you’re affected by what’s happened to you – and who can blame you? You’re doing the right thing, buddy, and I’m damn proud of you. You will have good days, and you will have bad days, and today is just a bad day, okay?”

Dean’s voice had become softer with every word, as he tried to soothe his partner, make him see reason. He thought he heard Cas smile through the phone, it moved his heart. But when Cas spoke again, Dean was sure he was crying, stifling a gut-wrenching sob sitting in his throat.

“Thank you, Dean. But… I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I feel terrible, just drained. And it just makes me so… _angry_ that Aaron is out there, living his life, not giving a damn, while I sit here crying in a shabby motel room. It’s not fair. I feel like there’s no progress, and I’m so damn tired. I just want this to be over,” he blubbered out. And now Dean winced with pain, too, commiserated with Cas so much that it nearly took his breath away.

“Cas,” he purred quietly, laying all the tranquility he could muster in his voice, “open up your laptop and videocall me. I’m waiting here on the phone until you’re ready.”

“Okay…But I look awful.”

Dean smiled, clicked his tongue.

“Nonsense, don’t be daft.”

Dean started his laptop, too, and waited for Cas to come online and video call him. He turned on the bedside lamp. His laptop rang as the videocall came in, and Dean accepted it. A bleary-eyed Cas greeted him, sitting on his motel bed cross-legged. The only light source was also the bedside lamp next to him, and it revealed his red-rimmed eyes, his lashes dark and wet with the tears he had cried. His hair was tousled, he wore a gray t-Shirt, and there was a three-day stubble on his cheeks, making him look rakish. Dean smiled at him through the laptop camera, took pleasure in seeing Cas again, despite the somber reason for their call. He didn’t know what Castiel meant that he looked awful – he looked handsome as always, even more so with his bed-hair and his stubble.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Dean smiled at him, and it made Cas smile tiredly. He looked up from under his lashes and contemplated Dean thoughtfully – Dean was just wearing a green shirt and black boxers, nothing unusual. Cas’ eyes traveled all over Dean’s features, an admiring expression lingering in his eyes, and suddenly, Dean felt all kinds of abashed with the appreciation Cas obviously held for him.

“If there’s anyone gorgeous, it’s you… Look at you… I missed that stupid face of yours.”

Dean scoffed. What a compliment. He smiled at Cas and shook his head.

“Okay, enough, you flatterer. Listen, Cas… I just wanted to tell you this face to face, so maybe you’ll wrap your head around this at last. You _survived_ what Aaron did to you, okay? He’s not there anymore, you’re safe. He can’t do anything to you anymore, he’s just in your head. I know it took a lot of strength to leave him, and even more strength to go on this trip all alone – but you can do it, Cas. You’ve come so far, buddy. Don’t give up because of one bad night, okay?”

Dean watched the effect his words had on Cas, how he closed his eyes overwhelmed. He nodded as tears streamed down his cheeks abundantly. He sniffed, his shoulders shaking, as he cried mutely. It broke Dean’s heart to see the man he loved so afflicted.

“God, I hate to see you like this, Cas. I wish I was there with you. You really need a hug.”

Cas opened his eyes, wiped the tears from his cheeks nervously. He looked at the camera and laughed.

“Yeah, I do, I really do. You give the best hugs, Dean,” he ended with a sigh, now smiling a heartfelt smile at Dean. He seemed already better, more stable, as if he was going to be alright. Cas kneaded his fingers together, toyed with the fringes of the blanket, a concentrated frown on his face.

“… but I can’t sleep, Dean. I’m so _tired_ , and I can’t sleep.”

Dean beheld Cas for a while, allowed himself to drink in his clean-cut features. He bit on his bottom lip pensively.

“I got an idea. Grab your charger cable,” he said, then he arranged everything as well. In a minute, he lay in bed again on his side, the laptop placed next to him on the pillow. Cas seemed to understand what he was doing, because he did the same thing soon, too. Now they could look at the other, face to face, while lying in bed, more or less together.

“This is stupid, an absolute waste of electric current,” Cas commented faux-annoyed, but he nevertheless smiled happily at the screen. The white light of the screen was refracted beautifully in Cas’ wondrous, deep blue eyes, made Dean’s heart soar to the sky with unspeakable bliss. He felt all sorts of calm now, suffused with the profound love he felt for Cas and the knowledge that he was okay again. Sleep was approaching, knocked on the door to Dean’s mind to be let in. He smiled a little at Cas, regarded the mirrored, serene smile on Cas’ kissable lips.

“Look, maybe you can fall asleep like this. And if you have a nightmare again, I’m right here. I’ll watch over you, Cas…,” he said quietly. A strange vehemence came to Cas’ eyes, a fire of fondness and utter devotion for Dean, and he looked at Dean as if he had hung the moon for him.

“What did I do to deserve you…” he replied, his lids already drooping with sleepiness. Dean smirked and closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep any second now.

“Shuddup.”

…

Sam and Jess were finally moving to Sioux Falls, and Dean had marked the moving date in his calendar. Again and again, he had offered his help, but Sam had insisted that Dean sit this one out and let Bobby and their friends handle it. However, Sammy had promised to call in the evening and let Dean know if they were okay and if they needed anything. When they called, Sam sounded happy but exhausted. He told Dean about all the things he had to take care of now and was wracking his brain. Jess was in the 34th week of pregnancy, round like a basketball with swollen feet and a dangerous temper, so Sam thought it was she rested and didn’t have to do much in the rented house.

“Only four weeks left, Dean, if Mary sticks to the time schedule. You better hurry up, I need you to finish the crib,” Sam laughed nervously. Dean grinned.

“Yeah, it just so happens that I will move in two weeks, so, I might be on track for it…”, he chuckled. Then he contemplated the situation for a moment, wondered what was going through his little brother’s head.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad soon, Sammy… how you’re holding up?”

He heard Sam’s sigh and soft smile through the phone.

“It’s insane if I’m honest. I’m scared of the responsibility all the time, of screwing up, but I’m also so excited, and I just can’t wait to meet our little daughter, you know? It’s like a never-ending rollercoaster, and I’m not sure it will ever stop.”

“You’re great with kids, Sam, it will be fine. Also, you’re not alone, you got Jess, and she’s going to be a wonderful mother, and you got Bobby and me… you can do this. You will be a cool dad,” Dean reassured him.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam said, sounding somewhat choked up with emotion, making Dean smile wistfully.

…

Two weeks later, Dean was prepared to move. All his boxes were packed, waiting to be picked up and stowed away. It was Friday afternoon, and in the early evening, Benny would come to help him, and they would drive all the miles through the night, to Sioux Falls. Dean left the apartment on foot – there was one more place he needed to say goodbye to, one place he needed to see once more before he left for good. He leisurely strolled through the city, studying the other pedestrians passing him by, the little shops he had often frequented…

The sun was shining on a bright blue sky, and Saint Louis looked strangely tidied-up as if it wanted to present itself to Dean one last time in its best outfit. His feet led him to a quieter area of the city, framed with avenues of big maple trees. He walked through the iron gate of the stonewall, immediately sensed the holy aura of this place. Full of consideration, he slowly walked along the rows of countless graves, knew the way by heart. He stopped after a few minutes, looked down at the granite headstone of Lisa’s grave. A photo of her had been embedded in the stone, and on it, she was smiling as heartily as ever, was as beautiful as he remembered her. He smiled heavy-hearted and sighed. Dean felt like a new man, so different than this man, who had been in a relationship with Lisa Braeden and who had lost her dramatically. All of this seemed so long gone, as if it didn’t concern him any longer. Deep inside, he knew his love for Castiel had brought this change – this love had made it possible for Dean to move forward, to let go of that terrible pain, which was holding on to him, sucking the life out of him.

He knelt down in front of Lisa’s grave; absentmindedly, he ripped out some wild weeds, stroked over the smooth, cold surface of the tombstone. He remembered the years he had spent together with Lisa, how happy they had been together, how in love. And suddenly, the memory of the day she had been murdered had less an impact on Dean, didn’t outweigh all the other good memories and feelings. He knew it had happened, but this wasn’t what he wanted to remember when he thought about Lisa. How they had made each other laugh, how they had supported each other through thick and thin, how they had loved one another – that was, what he wanted to remember. And just like that, the weight was finally lifted from Dean’s soul. He breathed through deeply, overcome by this freeing sensation, as pain made room for all these joyful memories. For a moment, he thought about Castiel’s idea of God and Heaven, and even though he wasn’t a religious man, he truly hoped Lisa was at a better place now, some kind of happy afterlife. He got up, brushed the dirt from his jeans. He smiled back at the ever-unmoving photo of Lisa.

“Goodbye, Lisa.”

…

With the help of Benny, Dean had finally moved into his new apartment. It had only taken him the better half of a day to unpack and make everything look more or less habitable. Benny had spent the weekend with him, and they had talked and consumed many beers together, recounting the things they had experienced together in Saint Louis. They both had the following Monday off – Dean to get more settled, Benny to drive back to Saint Louis – and when Dean said goodbye to him on Monday morning, his heart grew a little heavy. Benny engulfed him in a bone-crushing embrace, advised him to take care, and was gone before Dean really processed it. He sighed as he stared down the road Benny had disappeared on, reminding himself that Benny wasn’t out of this world, that this wasn’t a permanent farewell.

Two weeks passed, and Dean slowly started feeling more comfortable in his new apartment – less like a guest, but more like a resident. Sioux Falls wasn’t new to him, he knew all the districts by heart, but still, it took some time to get accustomed to this new and old environment again. It definitely had its perks to be closer to Bobby, Sam, and Jess – they visited each other all the time, and endless coming and going was happening. The first time Dean had lain eyes on Jessica again after not having seen her in a while, he just couldn’t believe how big her belly had become. It wouldn’t take much longer now, and their baby would be born, and Dean would be an uncle. In the meantime, he helped Sammy getting the nursery ready and doing his best to calm his little brother’s frayed nerves. At work, he had slowly but surely acclimated himself to his colleagues, thinking he kinda liked his ginger-haired colleague, Charlie, for she liked the same video games and movies – he also liked Donna and her quirky sense of humor; they often ate donuts together and drank coffee during their breaks. Every now and then, he and Cas wrote to each other or talked on the phone, it was becoming a regular thing. Life could have been worse.

…

It was a Monday evening, and Dean stood in his kitchen grinning like a lovestruck idiot. He had constantly been whining about his craving for Castiel’s notorious couscous-ratatouille on the messenger, so Cas had offered to video call him this evening and guide him through the recipe. So, here they were, in Dean’s kitchen. His laptop was opened, and he could see Cas on the screen. He was standing in the kitchenette of a small motel room, all the ingredients ready, as he was going to cook with Dean together. Dean could see Cas’ upper half and the magic his fingers created with a knife on the cutting board. He gave Dean an exasperated look.

“No, Dean. I told you to _mince_ the onions, not chopping them so coarsely. Those pieces have to be smaller. Look, like this,” Cas admonished him and held up his perfectly _minced_ onions, making Dean roll his eyes.

“You’re a show-off, Cas. It doesn’t matter how big the chunks of onions are. It’s dark in my stomach, it can’t tell the difference anyway.”

Cas sighed, then chuckled a little. He placed down the cutting board and grabbed a red bell pepper.

“You’re an obstinate blockhead.”

Dean took his bell pepper as well and gave Cas a lopsided smirk through the laptop cam. This was fun. They were already arguing like an old married couple, and Dean loved every minute of it.

“Hey, you do you, I do me.”

Cas bestowed him with a look full of frustration.

“I thought you wanted me to teach you the recipe, but if you-“ Dean interrupted him, laughing.

“Nah, man, I’m just pulling your leg. Go on.”

They continued cooking together, the faint golden evening light illuminating both their kitchens. And even though there were countless miles between them, Dean couldn’t help but feel close to Cas. It was as if he was just right there, by his side, and he couldn’t wipe that damn lovestruck smile from his mouth. To see the light refract in Cas’ eyes, to talk with him nonchalantly, spend some time together… it felt so good, it made Dean’s head swim with perfect giddiness. The food was simmering on the stove, and they got themselves a beer. Cas sat down on a barstool in his motel kitchenette, while Dean sat down at his kitchen table, bringing his laptop with him. He raised his beer bottle to Cas with a wink, and they drank, regarding the other man silently.

“How are you doing, Dean?” Cas asked with honest interest, watching Dean carefully. “It seems you’ve settled in.”

Dean looked around his two-room apartment – in one corner, there was his guitar, and he’d hung up some posters of his favorite movies and bands. On his bedside table, his favorite books lay in a pile he meant to consume soon. Everything had its place – the apartment looked neat and well-arranged, just like he liked it, and he detected the personal touch he had given it everywhere. He took another sip from his beer bottle and sighed satisfied, put his legs on the table, which made Cas grin in disbelief.

“Yeah, you’re right. I like it here. The neighbors are okay, except for that one student, who occasionally throws a party and smokes too much weed. But it’s a good place to live. When you come for a visit, I’ll show you around. It has this incredible magnitude a two-room apartment typically has to offer,” he joked. Cas grinned, but then his mien suddenly darkened, and he beheld Dean thoughtfully, twisted his lower lip between his teeth. A shadow of doubt crawled over his face, and he averted his eyes. He looked inwardly torn. Dean immediately picked up the change in his demeanor.

“Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Cas kept looking down, cradled his beer loosely in his hands, and frowned.

“You know,” he sighed, “I miss having a home. It sounds nice, and I’m happy for you, I really am… it just makes me wonder if it isn’t time for me to stop running. If it’s time for me to return to Sioux Falls and get a place of my own, too… I’m kind of tired of running, it gets very lonely sometimes.”

At hearing that, Dean’s heart thundered in his chest, made a racket. He felt the rapid beats against his ribs, in his throat. Euphoria overwhelmed him, surged against his forehead like a sweet, warm wave… But he managed to keep his enthusiasm at bay. He didn’t wanna push Cas.

“Not to repeat myself, Cas… but you’re always welcome here. If you want to and once you’re ready. Just saying.”

Now Cas gingerly raised his eyes, his cheeks rose-tinted, his lips parted with amazement. His gorgeous blue eyes gleamed with affection for Dean, which nearly made Dean blush with delight, and Cas stared at him piercingly. He sighed, blinked slowly as if to process their laid-back conversation.

“God, I wish I could kiss you now,” Cas said with a bittersweet smile. And now Dean really blushed. He scratched his neck, willed all the steamy images away, which were appearing in his mind’s eye.

“Oh, damn,” Cas suddenly yelped, “the food! We gotta stir it and lower the heat.”

Laughing, they both returned to their stoves and took care of the ratatouilles. A few minutes later, each of them had filled up their plate and sat at their respective kitchen tables, wishing each other “Bon appétit”. Dean, ever the helpless romantic, even lit a few tealights, which made Castiel chuckle, but Dean realized he secretly appreciated the gesture, for he couldn’t hide the tenderness in his eyes. They ate together and finished their beers, talking blithely about nothing and everything. The evening passed quickly – time was flying, as it usually did when Dean spent it with Cas, for they enjoyed the other man’s company so much that minutes and hours became a trifle.

A while later, Dean felt drowsy, and he yawned heartily, but he didn’t want to end their call yet. So he just took Cas and the laptop with him and moved their conversation to the bedroom. He flopped down on his bed with a groan and realized Cas was doing the same, lying down on his motel room bed. Dean turned the laptop in an all-encompassing movement so that Castiel could see all of his bedroom. Castiel whistled appreciatively, then smiled at Dean, when Dean had pillowed the laptop once more on his uphoisted thighs.

“So this is where the magic happens,” Cas commented with a wink. Dean winced and scratched his jaw, a little embarrassed. If only Castiel knew the truth…

“Yeah, not really,” he admitted, looking down somewhat abashed. “Ever since the two of us went separate ways, I didn’t do anything… Kinda lived in total ascesis.”

There was a little moment of stunned silence, as realization set in.

“So you mean to tell me you haven’t done _anything_ in all this time? Dean, it’s been nearly two months”, Cas said. Dean smiled wistfully and regarded Cas, feeling something tug at his heart. How could he explain all of this chaos inside of his head to Cas? That he didn’t want anyone else, that it felt strange to touch himself, because all he could ever think about was Cas, and that Cas wasn’t there? He smacked his lips, pressed his tongue against one molar as he contemplated Cas for a second.

“What can I say? It’s just… different without you.”

Cas smiled gently at him, fondness making his eyes gleam beautifully in the oncoming twilight.

“I know what you mean, Dean. To be honest, I haven’t… touched myself as well. I had other things on my mind.”

Dean scoffed a humorless laugh.

“Yeah, I believe you. Anyhow,” he sighed, “I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Suddenly, he read the challenging expression in Castiel’s eyes, the adventurous smile on his kissable pink mouth. A dark light of arousal glowed dangerously in his eyes.

“Are you in the mood now?”

Dean’s breathing faltered, he sucked in a shaky breath. Damn it. Just the idea of Cas and him, right now, via video call… it seemed so brazen and naughty, turned Dean on incredibly. He could feel himself getting hard, a noticeable large bulge growing in his boxers. He gulped down the nervousness, and it made room for intense heat spreading throughout his whole body. It tickled everywhere with pleasant anticipation. He regarded Cas, sitting on his bed with his dolce smile and his lavender-blue shirt prettily bringing out the color of his eyes. That damn sexy stubble Dean wanted to run his lips over so badly, his dark hair, through which Dean just wanted to run his fingers and grab it… his eyes traveled down Cas’ throat, where he longed to leave airy kisses, stopped at the button-down front of Cas’ shirt.

“Why don’t you unbutton your shirt,” he rasped, his voice already dark with arousal. Cas smiled a little, then sat up on his knees and pushed the laptop to the other end of the bed, so that Dean could see him completely. He looked into the laptop camera, his look piercing, wild with vehement lust, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, button per button. Dean’s mouth became dry, his heart pounding, when he watched Cas undressing, teasing him. More and more of his tanned perfect skin was revealed, his lithesome torso… he pulled away the shirt, exposed his strong upper arms, the collarbones Dean felt the need to leave bruising hickeys on… Cas stopped at once, placed his hands on his thighs, and smirked a little at the camera.

“Your turn,” he prompted Dean. He didn’t know what they had started, but Dean was certain he didn’t want it to stop. Without any doubts or hesitation, he sat up in bed, placed the laptop at the end of it as well. He wanted this, needed this. He wasn’t as playful as Cas, too pent up with the months of withdrawal, so he just pulled his grey shirt over his head, showing his naked upper body to Cas. He loved Cas’ reaction, how he inhaled shakily, his eyes quickly traveling all over Dean’s body, taking in every inch with appreciation. Mindlessly, Cas’ hands started stroking his own chest, glided along the bows of his rips, down to his protruding sharp hip bones, and all the way up again. He tilted his head to one side, sensuality was written all over his face, lust clouding his eyes, making his lids droop, as he regarded Dean. The given sight made Dean even harder, he sensed his dick pulsating almost painfully, he was so hard. He moaned when he carefully cupped himself through his boxers, massaging the sensitive head slowly to take some of the edge off. Needless to say it didn’t work, but only increased his pleasure. His brain fell asleep, all thoughts died away. It was a primal urge Dean followed then, which made him fist his dick and start stroking through his boxers, rubbing the head with his thumb. His heart thrummed, jumped, somersaulted, as it raced faster and faster. Sweet waves of lust crashed against him, made him feel weightless, wonderfully stimulated. His lids were heavy, weighing tons, as he continued pleasuring himself slowly, gingerly, risking a look at Cas.

“That’s it, touch yourself,” Cas whispered hotly, his hands wandering to the waistband of his jeans. They watched one another as Dean pulled down his boxers frantically, threw them away, and as Cas opened the button and fly of his jeans. Eagerly he shoved his boxers down and gripped his erection in a tight grip, watching Dean with ardent desire shining in his blue eyes. Dean swallowed nervously, felt overcome with a burning need, insatiable yearning. For a brief moment, he looked down and examined his dick, hot and hard and so big, twitching restlessly as it stood upwards. Damn, he was so aroused, so hard for Cas… he hadn’t touched himself in over two months, and now he was oversensitive, all edgy. He followed the inner voice inside of his head, which urged him to pleasure himself, to touch himself just like he liked it. His eyes were fixated on Cas as he started stroking the soft skin of his inner thighs, tickling himself a little as his calloused fingertips brushed over the skin. It shot even more hot blood into his dick, made it twitch and nearly painfully hard. With his other palm, Dean stroked over the expanse of his torso, his pecs, down to his happy trail…

Cas moaned lewdly as he watched Dean, his chest heaving with his accelerated breaths. Dean looked at Cas’ dick, how big and pink it was, leaking with pre-cum, as Cas kept jerking himself off slowly. The loud slapping sounds of Cas’ hand turned Dean on beyond imagination, made his mind run wild with filthy images. He fantasized about Cas being in his bed now, and what he would do to him. With a low moan, he started stroking himself in a loose fist, the heavy weight of his dick in his hand. It painted a tortured sensuality on Cas’ face as he watched Dean, his hand working faster and with more force. Dean smiled a little as he felt the oh so familiar fire licking at his spine, traveling through his whole body. It felt as if he was on fire, but it felt so good… Pure ecstasy coursed through him, made his limbs tickle, created prickly goosebumps all over his skin. He stared right at the camera, knew that Cas was looking at his screen right now.

“God, what I would do to you if you were here now,” he said quietly. Cas moaned, threw his head back a little, and studied Dean through half-closed eyes while pleasuring himself.

“Tell me,” he whispered, making Dean’s heart skip a beat. There was a roaring in his ears, the droning of his boiling blood as he jerked himself with more force, gripping his dick tighter and tighter. He was kneeling on the bed, but about to lose his balance, his senses were so on edge, hyper-stimulated. Before he could stop himself, words gushed forth, moaned and murmured into the oncoming night, interrupted by high-pitched sighs and moans from Cas. Dean kept staring at the screen, how his words affected Cas.

“I would grab your hips and lay you down, slip between your hot thighs, my fingers bruising them as I make you feel me… pressing against you, hot and hard, and smooth, so ready for you. My lips kissing your neck, my hot breath in your ear… and you’d feel so good, Cas. I’d shove myself inside you in one go, fill you up…”

Cas moaned aroused, squeezed his lids shut; Dean saw his knees give way, how he fell forward and caught himself with one hand, panting, while his other hand kept stroking his dick. Dean watched him come, his mouth agape, a beautiful frown on his face, as he was sweetly tortured by his approaching doom. Then rapture washed over his features, made Cas smile a little, as he moaned lowly, sounding relieved. His sight sent Dean over the cliff, caught him by surprise – he vibrated, his whole body tickled, as incredible heat arose within him, filled his every limb, made him blush and sweat. Then the heat bundled in his dick, hot blood making him harder and harder, until he let go at last, his head falling back mindlessly, as his orgasm took over him, making him wince restlessly. He was rutting into his fist, moaning with pleasure, as one intense wave after the other shook him, carried him away.

Utterly spent, he fell on his stomach, felt the cold blanket on his sweaty, flushed skin. He was breathing raggedly, his body buzzing with the afterglow of his powerful climax. His lids weighed tons, he was cozily exhausted and braindead, as he risked a look at Cas. His lover lay on his bed in a similar position, raising his head, so that he could look at Dean. The white light of the laptop screen was mirrored in Cas’ gorgeous eyes, made them glow unearthly beautiful. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and temple, his dark hair was a little wet, and a blissed-out, sly smirk graced his mouth when their eyes met. Dean chuckled and pillowed his head on his hand.

“Okay, that was a first for me,” he admitted. “I just hope there isn’t some random Russian hacker recording all this and posting it to the darknet.”

Cas sighed, an amused grin making his eyes gleam with humor.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, but it sounded awfully like a secret “I love you” to Dean. He couldn’t stop smiling at Cas, thinking he felt the exact same way about him.

…

Summer was coming to an end. Dean stood in the kitchen of his small apartment and stared out of the window. He spotted the leaves outside changing colors, the powerful gusts shaking the branches of the trees. Dark clouds hung in the sky, promised a rainy afternoon. Dean had two days off after a long five-day-shift; he was just cooking a nurturing potato stew he meant to bring over to Sam and Jess. He had gotten the recipe from Cas and found it easy enough to cook by himself.

Ever since their baby daughter had been born, Sam and Jess constantly looked like very tired, but blissed-out zombies. Apart from the gratifying, countless enjoyments a small human being brought, there was the problem of sleep deficit all fresh parents experienced. From what they told Dean, Mary woke up every two hours at night crying and needed to be fed or get her diapers changed, so their sleeping schedule was totally screwed. With a lopsided smile, Dean remembered Sam drinking a strong coffee and telling him with a kinda crazy smile that going without deep sleep really messed with your brain. He laughed when he remembered that afternoon. Jess had sat nearby on the couch at that moment, breastfeeding Mary, and thrown a pillow at Sam, cursing that he at least was allowed to drink caffeine – since Jess was breastfeeding, caffeine was a no-go. Dean helped where he could and really enjoyed it; every now and then, he cooked for the exhausted couple or babysat Mary while the two of them caught a few hours of sleep or did some long overdue household chores.

And they praised him for his support constantly, told him their lives and their house would be a lot messier if it wasn’t for Dean. Dean loved them both, of course, but he had to admit it wasn’t mainly because of them that he sacrificed his energy and time so much – he was incredibly enchanted by this little fairylike being called Mary, had ardently loved her from the moment he had first laid eyes on her. She was a precious little angel, such an innocent, pure creature, Dean couldn’t wrap his head around it. When he held her in his arms, supporting her small soft head, he felt blessed, utterly calm, while he quietly sang songs to her, rocking her. Looking into her eyes made him feel peaceful, as if there was some secret wisdom hidden within them, showing him a simpler and better world. It was a joy he had never known, never expected, a sensation of ferocious love he was getting addicted to. So, yeah, he gladly helped Sam and Jess, if that meant he could spend more time with his adorable niece.

His buzzing phone suddenly aroused his attention. He opened the messenger and detected the photo Cas had just sent him: The photo was taken probably from inside his motel room, showing a rainy street and big hailstones on the concrete. The rain clouds in the background were dark gray, looked ominous, and the leaf trees were bending due to the strong gusts.

_Looks like the world is ending. Autumn is coming. And I only brought my summer clothes along. Urgh._

Dean smiled at the phone, glad that Cas got in touch. For a good while now, they regularly chatted or talked over the phone, and it felt damn good. Of course, he missed him and wanted him by his side, but this was the next best option and he couldn’t help but feel closer and closer to the man, despite the distance. He wrote back, a sudden idea coming to his mind.

_Yeah, looks like it. Where are you right now and how long will you stay there? Gimme your address and I’ll send you something._

Cas indeed gave him the address, and they continued chatting for a while, until Dean had to take care of the meal he was cooking again. When he was nearly ready to go, he fetched a mailing carton and went to his closet. He brought out one of his favorite hoodies, a ruby-colored thing, which was warming and had a wonderful soft texture. Smiling about his stupid romanticism, he sprayed it with his perfume. Then he actually sat down and wrote a short letter to Cas, telling him that he missed him and hoped the hoodie would keep him warm on his trip. He also added some healthy snacks Cas could eat during a break with his motorbike, like granola bars and mixed nuts he had at home, along with his favorite scented tealights and a copy of one of his most cherished Vonnegut books, thinking Cas might like it, too. On his way to Sam and Jess, he stopped at an express delivery shop and sent the care package away to the address had given him. Sure, sending express was a little bit more expensive, but therefore it would arrive the next day safe and sound.

Cas left him a voice message the next evening, thanking him for his gift, obvious glee ringing in his voice. Dean had another migraine attack, as the weather changes of autumn had come. He was pumped with migraine medicine and therefore awfully sleepy, but the feeling of a screwdriver rotating in his brain had lessened a little. He grimaced as he stared at the damn bright screen of his phone and managed to reply to Cas with a short note.

_Glad you like it, man. My migraine decided it was time to visit me again. Gotta sleep it off. Have a good night, buddy._

Then Dean was out like a light, outworn by the severe agony his body had been feeling for hours. Whenever autumn came, his migraines were especially bad, and he couldn’t do anything but focus on the pain and wish to put a bullet into his brain, just so that it stopped. He woke up the next late morning bleary-eyed, wiping the drool from his mouth. The bright sunlight ached in his eyes, but the majority of his pain had gone away. When he looked at his phone again, he noticed the message from Cas this early morning – it brought a lovestruck, overjoyed smile on his lips, warmed his heart thoroughly.

_I had a wonderful evening thanks to you, Dean. Read Vonnegut, lit those candles, and ate plenty of granola bars. And all the while I had your scent in my nose due to that nice hoodie you sent me. Don’t think I’ll ever return it to you. It’s confiscated now. Thank you, Dean, you’re so good to me…_

Dean scoffed, mentally bidding his favorite hoodie goodbye. He replied.

_I’m only nice to you because you’re so handsome. Just kidding. Okay, keep it, I think it suits you better anyway. But you gotta send me a pic of you wearing it :-P_

Dean got up and cooked himself some scrambled eggs and coffee. He had already forgotten about his conversation with Cas, as he was currently occupied with writing down a grocery list, as his cell phone vibrated again. He opened it and saw Cas had sent him a photo. Laughing, and in complete shock and rapture, Dean sputtered his coffee all over the screen. Damn it. With his sleeve, he wiped the screen clean and studied the photo with silent, stunned enchantment, his heart tripling its pace. A surge of tickling lust washed through his abdomen, made him half hard. He bit on his lower lip, fought against this growing desire, as he looked his fill. There Cas was, kneeling on his motel room bed, dressed in Dean’s hoodie, which he had pulled down a little. The thing was, he was _only_ wearing Dean’s hoodie, nothing else. Dean swallowed aroused, his eyes feasting on Cas’ firm naked thighs, drowning in Cas’ challenging come-hither behavior as he looked right at the camera. One of his hands rested on the hoodie, the other lay on the inside of his thigh, apparently stroking upward. It was the hottest thing ever, encouraged Dean’s wildest fantasies. He breathed through several times, tried to compose himself. Then he replied back with nervous fingers, itching to pleasure himself asap or he would burst.

_Great. Now I need a shower._

…

A few days later, an unexpected package was delivered to Dean – he recognized the handwriting immediately and smirked when he accepted the package. It was from Cas. He probably wanted to return the favor. Dean ripped the package open eagerly, laughing a little when he found what was inside. There was a soft black old Led Zeppelin shirt he had seen wear Cas a dozen times; he assumed it was one of his favorite shirts as well. Then Dean found the jar of his favorite peanut butter brand, a fridge magnet in the shape of an ax with the slogan “Slice & Dice”, and this one really made Dean laugh. He had told Cas about his favorite horror movie series “All Saints Day”, and back at Bobby’s, he had even made them watch a part of it with them, and even though Cas thought it was stupid and likewise hilarious, he had remembered. His attentiveness made Dean feel appreciated, meant the world to him. The last thing he found was a CD with classical music – a compilation of Chopin’s piano pieces, and attached to it was a sticky note from Cas.

_Hey Dean, I hope you enjoy listening to Chopin as much as I do. Especially “Aeolian Harp” reminds me of you, it’s just as astounding and as intriguing as you are. Take care - Cas_

Touched by this sweet gesture, Dean placed the items down, taking a moment to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through his system. He listened to his insides, loved how arrived and cherished he felt, how Cas made him feel as if he was more than just an ordinary man, something precious. He put the CD in his old radio and skipped right to the piano piece called “Aeolian Harp” – its dreamy sounds filled his apartment, the pianist’s fingers swiftly traveling over the keys, bewitching the ears. It was a glorious composition, beautiful, light and profound at the same time. It moved Dean that Cas thought of him when he listened to this piece, that he thought he was just as wonderful as this classical music. Seized by a sudden urge, he grabbed the shirt Cas had sent him, and held it to his face, inhaled the enticing scent of Cas lingering in the fabric. His heart ached and widened at the same time, with every breath visions of Cas appeared in his mind’s eye. Just breathing in the lemony, soapy scent of Cas, listening to the music he had sent him… it filled Dean with a nameless joy, which was etched right into his essence, into his very bones. And yet, he couldn’t keep the frustration at bay, the painful longing, as he realized how much he missed Cas.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope with all the texting in the messengers, it was clear who was who.  
> Phew, please let me know what you think about this chapter.  
> For chapter 17, I don't think I can keep up this insane writing pace, so forgive me if there won't be an update next week but the week thereafter.  
> Have a great day or good night, wherever you are! :-)


	17. Ready for love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, lovely readers - how are you doing? My life is a chaotic mess as always, while I try to juggle work, raise my kid, do household chores, take care of myself and my hobbies *crazed laughter*, as always. So, this chapter... well, it's another "monster" of 13k. Remember when I said the average chapter should be 5,5k long? Hhahahaa. Yeah. Good times. I lied to myself again. However, I wanted to enrich the story with details, you know? Not just like any PWP with no plot and character development yada yada yada. Tbh, I quite like this chapter, though the ideas in my head didn't exactly turn out the way I wanted them too, but oh well. What can you do. I'm just glad I finished it after nearly 2 weeks, because lately, I've been feeling like I only come up with words like "potato, potato, potato". I have a mushy pear. 
> 
> **Oh, and by the way - in chapter 1 in the foreword, I added the tracklist of all the songs appearing in this story, I promised that to you a while ago - there even is a playlist on Youtube that I linked :-)**
> 
> So, enough talking - hope you enjoy this chapter! Happy reading :-)

**Chapter 17 – Ready for love**

_A long wait, sweet as fire_

_A few steps beat like a heart this night_

_I follow his rhythm_

_This nostalgia that burns knows neither boundaries nor distance_

_Nothing in this world can express the feeling_

_When two hearts join and again beat as one_

Time was flying by as summer slowly but surely started leaving the country. The days grew shorter, while nightfall quicker came. Dark clouds now often covered the sky, donated the rain the fields and woods had direly missed during the arid summer. His time with Cas seemed like a summer dream to Dean, and sometimes, he caught himself reminiscing said dream, zoning out of his daily life. However, he was busy with everything going on around him, so during the day, he rarely had time to miss Castiel or think about them. At the new police station in Sioux Falls he was assigned to, he had gotten to know the colleagues better, and with two of them, he was already on friendly terms.

The radio operator of the police station was called Donna – she had wonderful, long blonde hair and a friendly, pretty face; her laughter was hearty and could be heard often, and it was so contagious, that Dean often found himself laughing too, without even knowing what was going on. With Donna, he often drank a coffee or ate a snack, and chatted with her blithely. Dean admired her for her knowledge of weapons and her shooting skills. They shared the same love for donuts – Donna had told him she had divorced last year from her douchebag husband, because he had told her she loved food better than him, and soon Dean and Donna had decided, that donuts probably were a better company than her stupid, unappreciative ex. Also, Donna had a big heart, was always compassionate and easy to talk to. She was a little older than Dean and gave off a motherly vibe Dean kind of enjoyed being the recipient of. There were worse things than somebody bringing you donuts and asking you how you were doing.

Then there was this feisty redhead called Charlie, and most of the time, she and Dean shared shifts and patrolled together. Dean had taken to her instantly – she was cute, a little socially awkward, and absolutely into all kinds of movies and TV shows. He had seen her Harry Potter mug, had seen her Star Wars socks, and couldn’t help but laugh amused about her cuteness. Talking about the movies they both liked was an easy ice-breaker, and soon, Dean found he could talk to Charlie effortlessly. She was becoming something like a little sister to him, it just felt good spending time with her. The moment she confessed to him she was strictly into women, Dean realized he could completely be himself around her, confiding he liked both men and women. Charlie had just grinned at him while chewing her donut, comforting him that the two of them just wouldn’t work. He scoffed thinking about that moment. She was a bad driver, though, so Dean rarely let her drive the police car – he didn’t have a death wish after all.

Currently, they were sitting in their police car, chewing their breakfast-to-go sandwiches, as they watched the busy city life of Sioux Falls. Dean was behind the wheel, certain he wasn’t going to let Charlie drive for the next few weeks. Only yesterday, she had scratched the car’s left side-view mirror as she had tried to drive out of an underground parking garage. Dean had given her a dark, meaningful look, and they had wordlessly switched seats thereafter. She beheld him with a smirk as she munched her sandwich, punched his shoulder amicably.

“What do you think about a Star Wars marathon tonight? You could come over to my place and we could order pizza,” Charlie proposed nonchalantly. Dean smiled when he thought about it, appreciated the kind offer. He hadn’t spent time with Charlie outside of work yet, hadn’t really dared to ask her to do something together in private, because he hadn’t wanted to impose himself on her. Now he was simply glad she had asked him. He really could need some company; he had been moping alone in his apartment way too often lately.

“Yeah, sounds great. Pizza’s on me, though,” he agreed. Charlie grinned.

“Okay, but I want extra chili and jalapeno,” she insisted, making Dean wide-eyed.

“Jeez, Charlie. Do you wanna burn your mouth? That mixture is like an atomic bomb!”

She laughed a little and gulped down her last piece of sandwich, rubbing her hands together.

“Hey, my apartment, my rules. You gotta try it, Dean-o.”

Dean sighed and chuckled a little, rubbed his forehead, wondering if his throat could stand this spicy food. Later this evening, he rang the doorbell to Charlie’s apartment, which was located at the other end of Sioux Falls. She opened up, wearing comfortable sweat-pants and horn-rimmed glasses Dean had never seen her in.

“What’s up, bitch?” she greeted Dean and let him in. Dean frowned at this strange term of endearment.

“Hey, be nice to an old man,” he said in return, whereupon Charlie just stuck out her tongue. She was indeed six years younger than Dean, which made this whole sensation, that she could have been his little sister, even more palpable. Dean looked around the apartment with interest, stunned to see it looked a lot like a comic book store, with plenty of action figures, posters, and other fan merchandise. Charlie came to him from the kitchen and thrust a cool beer into his hand. Dean tilted his head as he curiously considered a lance, touching the tip of it with his forefinger.

“What’s up with the lance?” he asked. Charlie shrugged.

“Oh, it’s for larping.”

Dean had never heard the term, and his lack of knowledge must have been obvious, for Charlie started explaining.

“It’s short for Live Action Role Play. You know, you dress up, meet with others, who do the same, and pretend to be, I don’t know, an elf, or a medieval warrior, or, hell, Princess Leia, whatever you want.”

Dean was astonished. He hadn’t known people did that, but it sounded pretty cool. Even though he had to admit to himself that he was probably a little too shy to do something like that, allow himself to let the playfulness take over him, all judgemental thoughts aside.

“Sounds awesome. But aren’t you guys a little too old for that? I mean, isn’t dressing up something for kids?”

Charlie beheld Dean as if he was hard of understanding, bumped his shoulder amicably, and leaned a little closer as if she was revealing a secret to him.

“Who gives a damn, Dean? Everybody needs an outlet for this frigging boring adult life with all these responsibilities. Some do sports, others beat their wives or get drunk, and others dress up. I don’t think there’s any harm in that. And if you stop giving a damn what others might be thinking of it or you, you can really have a great time… why don’t you come with me and try it?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right”, Dean conceded, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and thought about Charlie’s offer. Did he have the guts to do something like that, free of inhibitions? It did sound like a great opportunity to have a good time… Dean chuckled, as millions of ideas suddenly rushed through his mind. He could dress up as Indiana Jones. Or Braveheart. Or David frigging Jaeger. The possibilities were endless. He felt a boyish grin coming to life on his face, making Charlie mirror his grin, as he looked down into her bubbly eyes.

“Okay, I’m in. You can take me larping.”

…

They spent the evening lying prone on Charlie’s bed, cramming their faces with really, really spicy pizza (Dean thought he could spit fire by now) and watching the Star Wars movies. It turned out both of them knew them by heart and didn’t really mind watching every scene in detail, so they chatted loosely every now and then, getting to know one another better. It was a welcome alternation for Dean to make use of his spare time like this, he felt at ease in Charlie’s company, as if he had known her all his life.

Dean was delighted to hear that Charlie was head over heels in love with a woman she had recently met during larping – a lady dressed up as a woodland fairy – but Charlie hadn’t made a move on her yet. Dean loved the vivid gleam in Charlie’s eyes as she kept on gushing over this woman, her gorgeous blonde curls, her pointy nose, her deep brown eyes. Dean scoffed, felt a painful twinge in his heart, as visions of Castiel appeared in his mind’s eye. Damn, he missed him. Charlie understood Dean’s meaningful silence, gave him a piercing, knowing look.

“You’re seeing someone, too?”

Dean looked down, smiled wistfully, as melancholy overwhelmed him, weighed his heart down. He sighed.

“Kind of. Though he’s… well, he’s taken some time for himself to clear his head. He’s been through some tough stuff before he met me, so…”

And before Dean knew what was happening, he was telling Charlie all about Castiel and how they had met. Charlie was squealing with glee, encouraging Dean to keep talking, to tell her every detail. Her enthusiasm distracted Dean from his aching pining for Cas, made him feel a little more hopeful as he relived the time with Cas through his narrations. Again, all the miles between him and Cas didn’t seem so severe, more like an inconvenience, which would soon pass. Charlie grew quiet when Dean recounted the last weeks and months without Cas, how they stayed in contact, and how he hoped Cas would return to him soon. She suddenly boxed his shoulder and grinned animatedly at him.

“Oh, Dean, I’m sure he will soon come back to you. I mean, I’m into girls only, you know that, but even I can tell that you’re the real deal. Cas would be stupid to let you go. There’s plenty of women in our station, who keep drooling over you.”

Dean raised his eyebrows rather surprised. They did?

“Okay, I didn’t know that. Doesn’t matter though. All I want is Cas, I’m not interested in anybody else.”

Charlie sighed and let her forehead fall down on the mattress.

“God, you’re helplessly romantic. It’s kinda cute.”

Dean chuckled and bit into another slice of pizza.

…

A few days later, Dean paid Bobby a long overdue visit – he hadn’t announced himself and spontaneously decided to drive by his place after work. Taken aback, he watched a middle-aged, blonde woman leaving Bobby’s house and walking down the driveway. Before Dean had a chance to step out of the Impala and greet her, she just waved at him and strolled away down the road. Somewhat confused, Dean gazed after her – since when did Bobby have lady visitors? He left the Impala and knocked on Bobby’s door, then he let himself in, as the door was practically never locked. Bobby sat at the kitchen table and called out to him, obviously mistaking him for somebody else.

“Did you forget something, honey?”

_Honey?_ That was indeed new. Scoffing, Dean showed up in the kitchen, his arms outstretched in defense.

“Sorry, it’s just me. I thought I’d check in on you, but… you seem to be doing peachy, I guess,” he said with a grin – Bobby was enjoying a serving of, what looked like, home-made cherry cobbler. He rolled his eyes at Dean, got up and fetched him some cobbler, too. A sly smirk came to the old man’s mouth as he slid the plate to Dean.

“Well, kind of you to visit me, appreciate it. Yeah, you’re right. That was, ugh… Marcy Ward. The new neighbor I told you about the other day.”

Dean studied him attentively, detecting the blush behind Bobby’s full beard. Dean wasn’t born yesterday, so he cut right to the chase.

“Yeah, and apparently, you’re calling her honey now? What’s going on with you two?”

Bobby looked away, scratched his neck, harrumphed – it was horrible and amusing to watch at the same time. Obviously, the old man was abashed, in a flustered state. He finally sighed and beheld Dean, utterly disarmed.

“We started dating. Went out for dinner, went dancing, you know the drill. She’s really sweet. And she makes damn good cobbler.”

“Tsk,” Dean mocked, “you’re easy to please. But I’m happy for you. I mean, it’s been ages since you went out and dated someone, right? That’s… good for you, I think. And I gotta admit, that cobbler is awesome.”

Dean chomped the sweet dessert while he considered Bobby, wondering about this sudden shift in his life, changing the routine Bobby and Dean had known for such a long time. Ever since his wife had died, apart from the few meaningless flings, Bobby had always been a loner. It truly pleasantly surprised Dean to hear about Bobby starting to date someone again. Not that Bobby wasn’t alright on his own, but having someone at his age around to talk to and hang out with, someone to love him and take care of him, that wasn’t so bad.

The evening passed with many bottles of beer and countless rounds of poker, while the two of them talked about this and that, savoring each other’s company like they always did. Dean however shied away from answering any questions about him and Cas, not wanting to ruin the exuberant mood with his glum thoughts and moping while Bobby was just finding love again. It didn’t seem right to bother him with all this crap going on in his head and heart. So, he only gave Bobby the answer that it was complicated and that only time could tell what would happen next. Bobby seemed to understand that Dean didn’t want him to delve deeper into that specific topic, so he accepted Dean’s answer with a grim nod, infinite wisdom in his eyes as they scanned Dean.

A few hours later, Dean was pretty sloshed, having switched from beer to whiskey as he had tried to drink his sorrow away – he decided to spend the night at Bobby’s, for he was definitely in no condition to drive. His guest room was still the same, as if it had patiently waited for him all these bygone months. Bobby, who wasn’t nearly as drunk as Dean, insisted on changing the dusted sheets though, and made quick work, before Dean finally belly-landed on the soft mattress with a groan, his eyes already closed.

“Can you take off your shoes at least?” Bobby grumbled, whereupon Dean just replied a braindead “huh”. The next second, he felt Bobby’s hands working on him, untying his boots and pulling them off with a soft thudding noise.

“Good night, son,” Bobby said and turned off the light, closed the door behind him. Dean lay in the dark, his head spinning, his stomach turning. He couldn’t help but feel despair growing within him, doubts and questions arising, gnawing at his mind. But he was too drunk to think straight, his body weary from this long day and all the alcohol. He fell into a dark, dreamless sleep, induced by his alcohol stupor – Castiel’s eyes kept haunting him throughout the whole night, popped up in his vision like blue electric flashes of light.

…

On the next day, it was Saturday, and fortunately, Dean had two days off. He woke up with all his bones aching, a parched throat, his eyes burning at the faintest idea of sunlight. Damn it. He was hungover, _badly_ hungover. He kept lying in bed for a moment, scolding his own stupidity and recklessness. At his age, he was really too old to be hungover, no matter how bad he was feeling. Bobby was still asleep, so Dean quietly made himself ready to leave. He wrote a short note for him, which he left on the kitchen table, thanking him for last evening and putting him into bed.

When he was back in his apartment, he gulped down two pills of painkillers and lay down in bed again, not really having the strength or willpower to do something productive with his day off. His headaches were killing him, were nearly as bad as another migraine attack, so he just lay there on the bed, half dozing – when suddenly his phone rang. It was Benny. Dean accepted the call, feeling a little guilty for not reaching out to Benny more often these days. Nearly two weeks had passed since their last conversation.

Dean was actually kind of relieved to hear Benny’s gruff voice and glad to have a chat with him. As usual, they asked the other how they were doing and what was currently going on in their lives. It felt so familiar to talk to Benny, as if he wasn’t over 600 miles away in Saint Louis, and Dean suddenly felt the urge to see his friend in person again. He proposed the idea to Benny after the had nearly talked for two hours.

“Why don’t you and Andrea come around and visit me sometime? I mean, I only have a two-room apartment, but I’m sure we’ll find a place for you two to crash.”

A moment of silence emerged suddenly, confusing Dean. Had he said something wrong? Benny harrumphed, sounded a little awkward.

“Yeah, about that, buddy. Uhm, I’m not sure if Andrea is in the condition for such a long trip. Though… I mean, it’s better sooner than later, because it won’t really get better.”

Dean frowned, raised an eyebrow Benny couldn’t see.

“What the hell are you talking about, man?”

He thought he heard Benny breathe out through his nose, it sounded as if he was smiling one of his heartfelt smiles.

“Andrea’s pregnant, third month already.”

“What?! And you didn’t tell me! Congratulations, rascal!” Dean exclaimed, his voice exuberant and joyous.

He knew Andrea and Benny had tried for some time now, already giving up hope or thinking something might be wrong with them. He rejoiced with them, knowing how much this meant to the couple. Benny was going to be a great dad, Dean was sure of it, and Andrea would make a loving mom. He listened to Benny going wild about Andrea’s cute showing baby bump and how he couldn’t stop stroking it, making Dean chuckle. At the same time, however, while Benny kept talking, a bittersweet arrow shot through Dean’s heart, making it bleed with an incredible yearning for Cas. It was eating him up from the inside, darkening his mind. Only yesterday, Bobby had told him about Marcy, and today Benny revealed that he was going to be a father soon. Not that Dean wasn’t happy for them or begrudging them… He just wondered why he was still alone, whether he wasn’t meant to be with someone, whether he didn’t deserve the same happiness everyone around him seemed to be having in their lives.

…

On Sunday, Dean sensed another episode of another bad migraine approaching, its talons digging into his gray matter painfully. When he stood on his balcony in the early morning light, breathing in the spicy fresh air of imminent autumn, he regarded the sky above and wasn’t surprised about his growing headache. Thunderclouds hung in the sky, promised another storm as hot and cool weather fronts clashed – the humidity lingering in the air made Dean sweat and a little dizzy. He decided to clean his apartment before his migraine got worse, so he rushed for the next hour, doing all the chores necessary. Then he swallowed another round of migraine painkillers, wondering if he had to take them for the rest of his life. Yeah, he knew ways how to reduce episodes: Drink lots of water, a regular sleep schedule, no alcohol or caffeine, no stress… Scoffing about the unlikelihood that he would ever get his shit together like that, he darkened his bedroom and lay down again, waiting for the medication to kick in.

Immense regret suffused him when he wrote a message to Sam to cancel today’s afternoon program – he had planned to babysit Mary and support Jess and Sam a little, but now it looked like he was glued to his bed, an unproductive and useless sack of bones. While gritting his teeth, he scolded himself for his carelessness and promised to take better care of his body. If this meant reducing the episodes of migraine attacks and thus spending more quality time with his niece, it was definitely worth it. Sam replied instantly, telling him it was not a big deal and wished him a speedy recovery. Even though Sammy obviously harbored no hard feelings about this, Dean still couldn’t help having a guilty conscience how he had self-sabotaged this day.

Dean was dozing off a little, hoped when he woke up again that the pain might be gone or more endurable. A few hours later, his cell phone rang, aroused him from his comatose sleep. Drowsy from sleep, he looked at the display, his heart tumbling excitedly when he realized it was Cas. He answered the phone, grimaced at the brightness of the screen aching in his eyes.

“Hey, buddy, what’s up?” he greeted Cas, his voice still low and croaky from just having woken up.

“Hello, Dean. Just wanted to check in on you. How are you doing?” Cas said softly, and Dean could hear him smile through the phone. A small smile grew on his lips at hearing the familiar, beloved voice. It made him feel as if soft fingers were gently stroking through his hair, caressing him like a fine touch of a mild breeze. He felt a lot better than this morning, but the headache was still prominent, throbbing against his forehead annoyingly. Dean groaned when he sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his free hand.

“I got another migraine attack this morning, but it’s a little better now. Kinda stuck in bed, which sucks. I actually wanted to babysit Mary today and help Sam and Jess. Feeling a bit of remorse because of it, like I failed them,” he admitted. There was a short moment of pause, which ensued. The next time Castiel spoke, his voice was ruminative, sounded somewhat pained.

“Dean, you’ve got such a big heart, I admire how you take care of everybody in your life. I mean, nobody’s blaming you for having migraine, you know? And here you are, feeling bad about not helping others out while you’re sick…,” Cas sighed and chuckled humourlessly. “I wonder who’s taking care of you for a change, who is there to help you.”

Dean frowned, deeply touched by Cas’ concern for him.

“Well, I always have Sam and Bobby if I ever need something, but I’d rather not bother them. It’s not their fault my head is a stupid little bitch sometimes… But, buddy, if you were here, you could give me one of those nice massages,” Dean flirted with a cheeky grin. “You’ve got strong fingers, gotta admit that, and I remember you working on my neck and shoulders kinda did the trick back then.”

He sighed longingly as he reminisced about Castiel’s fingers kneading his flesh, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Castiel grew strangely, awfully quiet, making Dean wonder if he had shooed him away somehow… But his following words were hushed, his voice breathy as if he was choked up with emotions. It moved Dean, made him wish Castiel was here, and that he could take him into his arms right now.

“You’re right, Dean. If I was there, I could take care of you…”

Dean harrumphed, felt awkward about the obvious elephant in the room – he didn’t wanna push Cas, or make him feel guilty for not being able to take care of Dean. It wasn’t his job, not his responsibility.

“Hey, it’s okay, Cas. I can take care of myself. And you’ve got other things to focus on, like your own stuff… how you’re doing, buddy? Are you okay?”

Cas chuckled.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice your attempt to rivet on me instead of you. But, thanks, I’m doing okay, I think. Really okay. But I’m kinda growing tired of driving around endlessly, you know? Every town and road starts to look the same, as if I’m running around in circles… I think I’m done running, that it’s time to return to Sioux Falls soon. Actually, I’m already looking for apartments, to be honest, and I talked with Bobby about getting my stuff.”

Surprised and wide-eyed, Dean listened to Cas attentively, his breath taken away from him, his heart racing with excitement. Was this really happening? He felt wild, joyful hope growing within him, imploding in all his cells, but he tried to control it immediately – he didn’t wanna get his hopes up only to be disappointed again…

“If you need any help, just let me know and I’ll be there,” he offered, even though he knew the answer already.

“Thank you, Dean. I really appreciate it. But that is something I need to do on my own, you know?”

Dean smiled wistfully, bit on his bottom lip pensively. Yeah, he could relate that sometimes you just needed time alone to get your stuff together and let your head get accustomed to the new situation.

“Yeah, I get it, Cas. Just, you know… when you’re there and settled, give me a ring.”

“Of course, stupid. I can’t wait to see you again,” Cas ended with a breathy whisper, making goosebumps appear everywhere on Dean’s body, his hair standing on end with electric, overwhelming pleasure. He hummed lowly, loved how good it felt to talk with Cas, to know he would soon live in Sioux Falls again, so close to Dean…

“I shouldn’t bother you any longer,” Cas suddenly said, “You’re probably still in pain but too stubborn to admit it.”

Dean smirked – Cas already knew him so well. Cas was right though. His head was pounding viciously, his temples felt as if a drilling machine wanted to enter and break his skull, but at least the nausea and dizziness had lessened. He felt sleepy again, yawned heartily. Maybe it was better if he hit the pillow again.

“You’re right, I could sleep a little bit more… but Cas? I don’t wanna hang up yet. It’s just so good to hear your voice, to hear you breathing… I missed that. Would you mind staying on the phone until I fall asleep?”

“Of course, I don’t mind,” Cas replied, his voice oozing with affection and kindness, “anything for you, Dean.”

Dean’s lids closed as he lay on the side, the phone sandwiched between his ear and the pillow so that it wouldn’t fall down. His body became heavier, fell deeper into the mattress’ yielding texture. He felt sleep creeping up on him while he listened to Castiel’s recurring breaths through the phone. It was the most reassuring thing he had heard in a long time, soothed his heart through and through. Already half-asleep, he heard Castiel speak quietly, not sure if it was a dream or really uttered words, but they sounded close to tears, Cas’ dark voice trembling.

“I miss you so much, Dean…”

He wanted to reply something, give comfort to Castiel, but then his body overtook him as sleep carried him away.

…

A few days later, Dean and Charlie were on a patrol, sauntering along the busy streets of Sioux Fall’s city center. While they were frisking the area for possible situations they might have to deal with, Dean recounted the latest phone call he had held with Castiel, analyzing it with Charlie.

“… and then he asked me who is there for me when I need help, and I teased him a little about it,” he said, scratching his neck abashed. “And then he said if he were there, he could take care of me. Isn’t that adorable?”

Charlie squeaked with excitement, a big grin on her mouth.

“Aww, he sounds dreamy. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Dean nodded in agreement, thinking that Castiel really was a dreamy and thoughtful guy. They kept walking in amicable silence, their concentration focussed on the noisy, complex city life, people and cars rushing past them. Suddenly, a shadow was in Dean’s vision, crossed his path. He stopped, perplexed, as he wondered what was going on. And then realization dawned on him as he looked into deep blue eyes, which were staring at him wide-eyed. A subtle smile was on these pink, kissable lips, and before Dean knew it, hands were framing his cheeks and he was pulled into a fervent, deep kiss. Cas! His mind stumbled, couldn’t think straight, as he leaned into the kiss, felt Cas’ fingers now on his hips, holding him tight. His heart rejoiced, he started grinning into their kiss. Damn, it felt so good to feel his lips moving against his again, to lose himself in his ardent kisses, to taste him…

“Sir? Sir, please stop! Sir, you’ve got to let go now! This is a physical attack against a legal representative,” Charlie said alarmed, her voice sounding shaky. Snorting with laughter, Dean let go of Cas and gave him a quick side glance, his hands resting on Castiel’s shoulders, before he turned his head to Charlie.

“Charlie,” he laughed, “it’s _Cas_!”

Charlie’s dumbfounded mien made Castiel laugh, too, and Dean returned his attention to him. He just couldn’t believe that Castiel was here all of a sudden! Pure bliss bubbled hotly in Dean’s stomach, made him feel as light as a feather. His head was spinning with all the adrenaline – he felt as if he hadn’t been able to breathe for months, and only now oxygen was filling his lungs again. He looked deeply into Castiel’s gorgeous blue eyes, admired the beautiful small smile playing on his kiss-wet lips, and his heart pounded as if it was about to explode with happiness. What was new, however, was Castiel’s growing full beard, surrounding his chin and cheeks darkly. Stunned, Dean stroked it with his fingers tenderly, intensifying Castiel’s smile.

“Nice peach fuzz,” he commented, whereupon Castiel grinned. Then Dean let his forehead fall against Castiel’s, his hands grabbing the lapels of Castiel’s shirt, as their eyes locked. Their hot breaths collided as they stood in the other’s personal space, forgetting about the world surrounding them.

“What the hell are you doing here, Cas?” Dean said, his voice strangled with emotion. Cas leaned his forehead closer against Dean’s, uplifted Dean’s jaw gently to make him look at him directly. Damn. Dean had almost forgotten how handsome Castiel was, how insatiable his hunger for him was. His eyes scanned Cas’ features, unable to look his fill.

“I’m ready, Dean.”

Dean swallowed nervously, couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew exactly what Castiel was implying, what this meant. He closed his lids for a moment, his knees wobbly as he sensed Castiel’s hand on his hip and his cheeks, gently stroking him with small movements, leaving mindless patterns. Butterflies were flying through Dean’s stomach, made him giddy with a thrill of anticipation.

“I… I don’t wanna push you”, he pointed out, as if this held any meaning.

“You’re not, Dean. _I’m ready_.”

Now Dean couldn’t fight his honest smile anymore; he opened his eyes again to reassure himself that this wasn’t a dream, that this was indeed real. A fond expression lingered in Castiel’s glistening blue eyes, tears were welling in them, as a sweet smile graced his mouth. Dean smirked and winked at his lover.

„Are you sure? You know, if you need more time, I’ll… I’ll wait.”

At that, Castiel scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically, then he gave Dean a meaningful, dark look.

“Will you just shut up and kiss me already?”

Dean didn’t need a second invitation. Laughing, he grabbed Castiel’s cheeks and pulled him closer, kissed him with all his heart. They melted into one another, attracting the attention of passersby, who were whistling suggestively at them. Dean didn’t give a damn. He kissed Castiel as if this was the only thing that mattered, as if his life depended on it. Again and again, they let go of the other, panting against their mouths with tremulous exhales, only to crash into each other again, making up for the months they hadn’t seen. At last, Dean was able to stop for a moment. He gave Cas a wink, then he wrapped his arms around him and just held him close, loving the feel of his body against his, his weight, his warmth, as he pillowed his chin on Cas’ shoulder. His hands absentmindedly stroked along the expanse of Castiel’s back, appreciating the sensation of his flesh and muscles moving underneath his touches. Dean never wanted to let go. But then Charlie harrumphed, heavy with meaning, and Dean sighed wretchedly.

“Dean, we’re still on patrol,” she reminded him. Reluctantly, he broke away from Cas, and they smiled warmly at each other. Cas nodded in silent understanding.

“It’s okay. Do your job, I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? I’ll text you the address,” Cas suggested. Pins and needles traveled all over Dean’s body as he contemplated the man he loved, how devastatingly handsome he looked. It was reassuring to know that Castiel was here again, that he was done with running away, running from Dean. And now he had even invited Dean over to his place… Slowly but surely the realization hit Dean that Castiel was indeed ready, that this contained the possibility for the next step in their relationship. He swallowed nervously, suddenly sensed a big lump in his throat, as he was deeply moved. He just nodded and smiled. Once more, Castiel leaned in and pecked Dean’s lips, their mouths pressed together intimately. Then he let go of Dean, winked at him, and turned around. Dean watched him walk away, puzzled, and wondered if this had been an awesome hallucination, just a daydream.

…

After work, Dean rushed home to get showered and dress up. Castiel had already texted him his new address, and to Dean’s delight, it was within walking distance. Not even twenty minutes separated him from Cas. When he was freshly shaved and showered, Dean worried what to wear, feeling all kinds of antsy and uptight. He didn’t want to give Cas the feeling that he wasn’t making an effort, but he also didn’t wanna overdo it. In the end, he decided for his favorite pair of jeans, a dark gray T-shirt, and a green button-down, from which he knew that it really brought out the green of his eyes. Nothing too fancy, but he felt comfortable and confident in these clothes.

He left his apartment and walked down the streets towards the building Castiel lived in. All the while, a million different thoughts ran through his head, apprehension mixed with a thrill of anticipation… He tried to calm down, to be cooler about seeing Cas again and spending time with him. But as soon as he remembered how much godforsaken time had passed since the last time he had really seen him, the excitement and giddiness were present again. He couldn’t keep the stupid grin out of his face, he was in such a good mood. Passersby were frowning at him, some smiled confused at him, surprised about this man walking them by with a lovestruck, boyish grin stuck to his lips.

The building Castiel lived in was a white and picturesque and under monumental protection; it had black-framed windows and ornate balconies with black steely rails. It truly looked impressive and well-kept, and when Dean studied the doorbell nameplates, he realized that only five apartments were within this old, imposing building. After pressing the doorbell below, Castiel let him in, and Dean jogged through the staircase, out of breath to some degree when he reached the tier Castiel was living on. Cas stood in the opened door, leaned against the frame, as he invitingly held it open for Dean, a happy smile on his mouth.

Dean quickly took in his view with pleasure, loved how stunning Castiel looked tonight. Not that Dean hadn’t liked his growing full beard, but Castiel had shaved, and Dean simply was overwhelmed when he marveled at Castiel’s shaved, unblemished face. Cas was wearing a navy-blue button-down shirt with blue jeans, equally nonchalantly but fairly smartly dressed like Dean. Dean greeted him with a nod and approached him, not really knowing whether to hug Cas or how to act properly – but then Castiel stretched out a welcoming arm to Dean, wrapped it around his back and pulled him in for a quick, deep kiss, kissing him in earnest, making Dean’s knees buckle. Dean felt himself blush fiercely as he responded to the kiss and leaned closer, their mouths sliding together intimately. He smelled Castiel’s lemony, soapy scent, and it made him woozy with desire. Gulping nervously, he let go of Cas and they smiled at each other, walked into his apartment, and shut the door behind him.

Cas immediately wandered off into the kitchen. An incredible aromatic scent wafted through the whole apartment, making Dean’s mouth water and his stomach growl hungrily. He had skipped dinner, for he had wanted to be at Castiel’s as soon as he could. Castiel gave him a brief side glance, then grinned while he put something from the pan onto a large plate expertly.

“I thought you might be hungry, so I cooked a little something.”

Dean nodded, then his eyes traveled to what was apparently Castiel’s living room – there was a small table close to the ground, where you could kneel or sit before, with plenty of big, cozy-looking cushions all around. The table looked sort of Arabic to Dean, it was made out of dark wood with playful carvings. And on the table, there were several plates already with many different types of steaming finger food Dean had never seen or heard of. It was enough to feed a whole soccer team.

“You call _that_ a little something…? Well, I’m not complaining. I missed your cooking.”

Cas passed him by with a smirk, putting down the last plate on the last unobstructed space on the table. Then he walked back into the kitchen and got Dean and himself each a bottle of beer. Dean let himself be led to the eating area and sat down on the floor on one of the big cushions, thinking it was actually all kinds of nice to eat in this particular way. They sat opposite each other and clinked their beer bottles together. Castiel pointed at the different dishes and explained them to Dean.

“So, these are Samosa, this is Medu Vada, these are Pakoras, this is Gobhi, and this is Khandvi.”

Dean regarded Castiel with a blank poker face, wondering if he was having a stroke.

“Gesundheit. I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is all this?”

Castiel sighed and looked at Dean a little amused, fondness glowing in his ethereally beautiful blue eyes.

“I forgot you’re more of a burger-type. These are Indian dishes. I like to cook all kinds of cuisine, exploring different tastes every now and then.”

Then Castiel described the ingredients of the dishes, and they tested each of them together, laughing carefree about Dean’s circumspect reactions to them. He liked most of them, and Castiel still was a damn good cook. Before he noticed it, his nervousness was already forgotten, and he enjoyed his time with Castiel without any inhibition holding him back. It was as if he had never left.

They got to talking, while it darkened outside, sipping their beers and eating in between. Against the night’s darkness, they lit some candles and incense sticks, whose small snakes of fogs danced through the air. A mix of Castiel’s favorite music was quietly playing in the background, adding to the relaxed atmosphere of this evening. Dean picked out Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Blue Öyster Cult, and some eighties’ bands with soft synth-pop music, thinking he quite liked Castiel’s taste.

With a far-away, tranquil voice, Castiel told Dean all about the places he had visited during his extensive road trip. Dean got up and sat down beside him, so that Castiel could show him the photos he had taken with his camera. They sat close beside one another, sharing their body warmth and breaths, their heads put together within kissing range, as they viewed one photo after the other. Dean could have listened to Castiel’s narrations forever; he loved how spirited he told him every detail about the landscape or what he had done or thought of visiting these places. Automatically, Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel’s back, and Castiel leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder while they kept looking at the photos. It felt incredibly domestic and intimate to be together like this, talking and touching one another affectionately.

When Castiel was done, Dean showed him photos of little Mary in return and kept talking about her quirks and what he loved about her. Castiel instantly fell for her, swooned over her cute smooth baby hair, and her chubby little cheeks.

“She has your eyes,” he said and looked up at Dean. Rapture lightened up his face, and he was grinning from ear to ear. Dean beheld Castiel for a moment, every sensible thought slipping from his mind, as he drowned in the depth of Castiel’s wonderful blue eyes, how the candlelight was mirrored in them. He couldn’t understand how anyone could be so gorgeous and loveable at the same time. Unknowingly, he lowered his cell phone down on the cushion, and with his now free hand, he touched Castiel’s cheek, looked deeply into his eyes. The embers of desire were flaming up in Castiel’s eyes, his look became clouded with lust. A shadow of sensuality flitted across his face, tugged at Dean’s heartstrings. He felt as if this moment was precious, divine – for a second, time stopped, as he leaned down and captured Castiel’s lips with his, their eyes closing simultaneously. Sparks of pleasure shot through Dean, made his body vibrate with unfiltered joy. Castiel hummed, then winced with arousal as Dean deepened the kiss and let his tongue slide into Cas’ mouth hotly, tickling Cas’ tongue with his.

Dean’s hand wandered into Castiel’s dark hair above his temple, fisting the smooth strands with subtle force. Castiel tilted his head to the side so that he could kiss Dean even harder. His hands searched for support and came down on Dean’s shoulders, his fingers delving into the hard flesh there restlessly. Bereft of breath, Dean separated from Cas, seeking his attention. Castiel’s eyes were lust-hooded by now, through small slits he studied Dean, a fire now burning in his eyes. It made Dean speechless with want, made his heart roar in his chest. He smiled jittery, stroked through Cas’ smooth hair with tenderness, cherishing this moment.

“Is this okay? I… I don’t wanna rush this,” Dean said, his voice nothing more than a breathy whisper. He barely allowed himself to enjoy this, he was so afraid everything might fall apart again. His heart leapt into his throat, he was so happy and anxious at the same time. 

A pained smile appeared on Castiel’s kiss-swollen lips and he beheld Dean with a piercing, knowing look, as if he could read his mind easily and knew exactly what Dean was thinking. He cozied up to Dean and placed a hand on his chest, right above his heart, which was thundering avidly at that, longed to greet its owner. Gingerly, Castiel’s fingers stroked over Dean’s clothed chest, drew little circles that tickled him, while their eyes locked. The Cure’s song “Lullaby” was currently playing in the background, filling the small apartment with its quiet guitar sounds. Dean caught some of the lyrics and smiled moved, thought they fitted this trusted conversation.

_Be still, be calm, be quiet now, my precious boy_

_Don’t struggle like that, or I will only love you more_

“Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough, Dean? I know now what I want, and I want you. I wanna be together with you, always…”

Castiel emanated such tranquility and self-assurance when he said these words, it left Dean speechless. He marveled at this wondrous creature in front of him, how peaceful and at rest Castiel appeared. He frowned as he clothed his thoughts into woozy words.

“You seem changed… at peace. Your time off must have really done you some good.”

Castiel gave him a charming smile at that, then he leaned forward and left a coy, gentle kiss on Dean’s mouth, his lips lingering on Dean’s for a moment. When he withdrew, a splendid zest for life burned in Castiel’s eyes, like exploding, colorful fireworks in a dark bleak winter night. He grasped Dean’s hand and held it loosely in his, kneaded his fingers absentmindedly as he looked down at their intertwined hands.

“I made my peace with the past. What happened to me was hard, and for a long time, I felt very bad and hopeless. But then I finally realized that I can’t change what has happened, that there’s no use dwelling on it forever. Remember that time when we video-called the other night, after I had that nightmare about Aaron? You told me I had survived Aaron. And at that moment, it kind of clicked in my head and I finally understood… I feel like I have been given a second chance at life, to have a better life, with someone I actually love, and who loves me equally… it makes me feel giddy with excitement about all the future days to come.”

Dean bit on his bottom lip while listening to Castiel speak so openly, his throat laced up with an overwhelming feeling of profuse gratefulness to have him back in his life, safe and sound. After all the torments Castiel had experienced, his smile was even more precious, as they both knew how much suffering and strength it had taken them to get here. He remembered Castiel’s tears and desperate confessions whispered at night; to see him smile again brought a joy to Dean’s heart that was closely bordering on pain, it was so intense. A vehement wave of love for Castiel suffused Dean, made him smile a twitchy smile. He moved closer to leave a soft kiss on Castiel’s forehead, as if he could bless this wonderful human being with this gesture and shield him from any possible future harm – Castiel slowly raised his eyes to Dean, as if he had seen a ghost, amusing Dean to some degree.

“Who ever said that I love you?” he joked, Cas’ jaw dropping in momentary bewilderment. Dean snorted with laughter and in the next second, he pressed his lips against Castiel’s, kissing him again and again, not willed to ever let him go again. It didn’t take long, and their cautious caresses became more unrestrained, their breaths turning into low moans and high-pitched sighs. Cas crawled into Dean’s lap and threw his arms around Dean’s neck, holding on to him for dear life as they kissed each other, their heads spinning with elation and desire. And Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s frame and held him tightly, savoring the feeling of holding him again.

Their foreheads were pressed together, as both of them were gasping for air, inhaling the other’s dewy hot breaths. With half-closed eyes, Dean watched Castiel’s features so close to his, and what his ministrations did to him, loving his reactions. His hands stroked along Castiel’s spine, snaked under his shirt, and found wonderfully silken skin. Cas twitched when Dean’s calloused fingertips caressed his shoulder blades and his ribcage with ghostlike touches. He bit on his bottom lip with a lust-pained expression on his clean-cut face, apparently attempting to keep his temper. Then he reclined his head and regarded Dean, an all-consuming fire burning in his candlelit eyes, making Dean speechless with desire and humbleness. His heart was all Castiel’s, and he could destroy him in a second if he liked – the knowledge of this vulnerability made Dean smile wistfully, made him capture Castiel’s lips in an affectionate, slow kiss, because he had never thought it would be possible for him to ever love someone so genuinely again. Did Castiel know how much he meant to Dean? How ardently Dean loved him?

A sweet, dizzying wave of sexual ecstasy washed through him as Castiel’s hands stripped off his green shirt, stroked it from Dean’s shoulder determinately – it fell to the ground, nothing more than an afterthought. Then Castiel’s fingers skimmed over Dean’s clothed torso, ended up underneath his shirt, which he slowly raised over Dean’s head, undressing him with a certainty that went right through Dean. While Castiel still sat in his lap, he gave Dean a twitchy smile in the half-light, their eyes locked, as Dean opened the buttons of Cas’ navy-blue shirt with jittery fingers. Their chests started heaving as Castiel took off the shirt, their torsos equally undressed now. It was clear where this was going to end, but it seemed both of them were stalling, their nerves frayed – it had been so long since the last time they had done this. Castiel seemed to understand what was going through Dean’s head, for he took one of Dean’s hand and placed it on his well-defined chest, his flesh already hotly burning with passion. He tilted his head to the side and contemplated Dean knowingly, his eyes scanning Dean’s features with an intensity that spoke volumes.

“Are you afraid?”

Dean smiled a little about the innocent question. He would have never admitted this to anyone else, would have never opened up to someone like this – by showing his vulnerability, his uncertainties – but here, with Cas, he was safe, knew that the man he loved only wanted to love him in return. However, this didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid a little,” he conceded with a lopsided smirk, whereupon Cas nodded solemnly. He scooted over in Dean’s lap, closer, so that their bare chests nearly collided. Dean moaned darkly as their pelvises moved together, as he sensed the weight and heat of Castiel’s clothed erection pressing against him. Suddenly, Cas’ hands were in his hair, gripping his skull, as he made Dean look at him, then kissed him slowly, open-eyed, his pupils dilating more and more as Dean kissed him back. It was the hottest thing ever, made Dean even harder. Castiel’s mouth shortly let go of him, only to leave airy, small kisses on his lips again and again, leaving Dean craving for more, slowly losing his mind.

“That’s good,” Cas whispered in between kisses, “that means this is of great significance… You and me…”

Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips, which lingered on his fleetingly and were gone again, like the brush of a feather.

“Oh, you know how to talk to a man,” he joked, but then the smile slipped from his mouth as Cas made him shut up with a hard, eager kiss, laying all teasing aside. Impatiently they kissed, their arms holding the other, and Cas moaned into their kiss, causing Dean’s heart to somersault enraptured. He released his fears, his hesitance, and let his body take over, did what felt right to him, symbiotic. While opening Castiel’s jeans with skilled fingers, he brought his mouth to Cas’ throat, nibbling at the soft skin, leaving bloody bruises there – he felt Castiel become lax with want at that, moaning and sighing sensually and rocking his hips against Dean’s.

His heart was thundering in his chest, his boiling blood roared so loudly in his ears that it seemed like drums were beating in his head. Besotted from their kisses, he watched Castiel get up quickly, his hand outstretched for Dean to take. He let himself be pulled up and let Castiel lead him to his bedroom. Dean licked his bottom lips nervously, nearly delirious with pent-up want. They stopped in front of the bed, Castiel’s back turned to Dean, and Dean swiftly wrapped his arms around Castiel’s middle, kept him from turning around. His hands moved to Castiel’s hips, while he kissed his neck repeatedly, inhaled his bewitching, lemony scent deeply; he slowly, teasingly, pulled down Cas’ jeans and boxer shorts, undressed him with suave touches, and sensed goosebumps coming to life everywhere on Castiel’s naked torso. With a burning greed that was beyond his understanding, Dean bit into Castiel’s shoulder, making him shudder and moan. He undressed swiftly as well, stepped out of his pants. Then he pressed all of his body against Castiel’s, made him feel hot, hard flesh, everything. An aroused sigh fell from Cas’ lips, and he reached behind him, over his head, to let his fingers get lost in Dean’s short hair, stroking through it gently.

It was dark in Castiel’s bedroom, and only the white moonlight shone inside, left ghostlike shadows on the floor. When Castiel turned around in Dean’s arms, Dean could study the refraction of said silvery light in his lover’s deep blue eyes, how his long lashes created soft shadows on his cheeks. He was stunned, caught in a stupor of affection and lust, as he studied Cas’ full lips, a subtle smile tugging at them. Before he knew what was happening, Castiel had wrapped his arms around Dean and let them fall backwards onto the bed. They chuckled as the mattress bounced under their sudden weight. Then all of their thoughts vanished into thin air, as they sensed each other again, their bodies entangled like this. Castiel kissed Dean ardently, and it made his head spin, as their tongues slid together; their hands were all over each other, relearning the shapes of their lover after all this time with a reverence that spoke volumes. Dean was giving caresses and receiving them with utter satisfaction, madly pleased about the frenzy he brought to Cas. It was a sight for sore eyes to see him squirm in the sheets, his legs splayed widely for Dean, while mute outcries of passion escaped his agape mouth. Dean shoved himself inside of him again and again, thinking he could never tire of feeling Cas’ heat all around him, welcoming him and holding him tight. Cas became tighter as his climax approached him, his head rolling from on side to the other; during Dean’s hard, long thrusts, Castiel’s eyes fled to his, their look hectic, driven by an all-consuming fire, which meant to overwhelm him. He moaned high-pitched, his brow furrowed, as he apparently fought against the crest his body was reaching. Dean smiled gently at him, knew that he was holding back because he didn’t want this to be over.

“It’s okay, Cas, it’s okay”, he soothed him, then he leaned down to kiss him slowly, their tongues gliding together. Suddenly, Castiel tensed up and moaned into their kiss, and Dean felt him come hard. It was as if the air was punched out his lungs as Castiel cramped underneath him, milking him. Then a powerful surge washed through Dean, liquid heat engulfing his body, and he came, too, riding on one wave after the other.

Blissed-out and panting, he collapsed onto Cas, who wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly, not willed to let go of him yet. After a few moments, their bodies cooled down noticeably, and Dean was still inside Cas, felt his dick pulsate with the afterglow of his wonderful, intense orgasm. With an amused smile, he wondered if Cas was ever going to let him go. As if he had read his mind, Castiel suddenly moved into gear and kissed Dean’s temple tenderly. His hands ended their hard grip on him and stroked over the length of Dean’s body. Dean uplifted his head to regard Castiel; they smiled gingerly at each other, slowly realizing what had just happened.

“It’s okay, we’ve got time now,” Castiel quietly said. Dean felt as if in a dream as he fondled Castiel’s cheek, his jaw, his fingers traveling absentmindedly down his throat towards his heart, as if it was calling out to him. He smiled, deeply moved by Castiel’s words and what they implied. He nodded, looked back at Cas again, and smiled genuinely.

“Yeah, we’ve got time now.”

…

In the following days, Dean felt as if in a glorious haze of infatuation, stupidly happy in a constant rush. He knew that for a great part it was his hormones going haywire and that this phase would soon pass – but he was willed to enjoy it for as long as it lasted. He had lost count how often per day he thought about Castiel and his feelings for him, his calm words when he spoke, how good his kisses made him feel… but Charlie was always there to tease him about his dopey, sentimental smile glued to his lips, reminding him that he was daydreaming again. And seriously, life these days was nothing but a wonderful, feel-good, seemingly never-ending dream.

Not every night, but nearly every second night, either Dean or Cas stole away to the other in the early evening to spend some time together. Sometimes they slept at the other’s apartment, which usually led to hectic, rushed mornings the following day, when the other had to get to work and fetch his stuff beforehand at their apartment. And sometimes, they walked the other home in the middle of the night, stealing heated goodbye kisses again and again at the doorstep, as if their bodies refused to separate from one another.

Apart from that, the mornings when neither of them had to work, were pleasantly relaxed and agreeably slow. Dean was always thrilled to find Castiel in bed with him when he woke up, the faint morning light illuminating his eyes like two precious gems, a delicate smile on his rosy lips when they looked at each other for the first time of the day. It seemed they didn’t need a lot to enjoy their time with each other – it was easy to talk to Cas about everything under the sun, came naturally to Dean. He couldn’t remember the last time he had talked so much. But he also loved to listen to Castiel’s musings without end, listened to his tales from his youth and childhood, that made him feel like he was getting to know Castiel better and better. And the more he knew about him, the more he loved him, adored him from head to toe. But, as a matter of fact, words were just an embellishment to the omnipresent truth, which rang clear as a bell in Dean’s head continuously – that he _knew_ Castiel, and that Castiel knew him, inside out, even without words. They had glimpsed at the other’s soul at the lowest times of their lives, seen the other’s pain and struggles, the depths of the other’s heart, and nothing could undo that or change how they had fallen in love with each other through that experience.

When they didn’t feel like talking, they spent the time listening to music, closely huddled up to one another in bed, or watched a movie, made some music together, or cooked. At one point, Dean had insisted to take Castiel out to a proper restaurant, so that he could woo him some more, telling him they hadn’t even had a real date yet. And for a while, it was nice to see the tangerine light of the candle on their table shimmer in Castiel’s eyes enticingly, to play footsie under the table and hold hands – but as soon as their dishes had been served and they had started digging in, Dean had to admit under his breath that Castiel’s cooking was way better than the stuff served in this restaurant. They had left early, only half of their food eaten, and Dean had abducted Castiel to a burger joint, where they had bought a late-night snack, both of them tickled pink how much Castiel actually enjoyed cheeseburgers and hadn’t known it all his life.

When they lay in bed together this night, Cas’ back turned to Dean, and Dean’s arm wrapped around Castiel’s middle, a million thoughts rushed through Dean’s mind, kept him from falling asleep. He listened to his inner life, checked in on himself, and wondered how awesome he was indeed feeling. Memories appeared in his mind, made him lose himself in the maze of half-forgotten events and people he had known and loved a long time ago. It was as if he was seeing the story of his life unfurling in front of him, how his way had finally led him here, and what he had loved and lost along the road. With a wistful smile, he kissed Castiel’s neck gently, buried his nose in his dark hair. An intense, hot wave of love suffused him, overwhelmed him, as he held Castiel tighter. He couldn’t believe his luck, and how good it felt to receive Castiel’s genuine love in return, day by day. Suddenly, he heard Castiel’s dark voice cutting through the silence of the night, and it made him chuckle softly.

“Baby, don’t go all sentimental on me. I’m not going anywhere, ever,” he said and put his hand over Dean’s on his belly, like an emphasized confirmation of his words. Their fingers intertwined, an unspoken promise to never let go of the other, and Dean pressed his hand gently as if he was making an oath to never leave Castiel’s side, too.

“I know, Cas, me too. I love you,” he confessed with all his heart and kissed Castiel’s neck again, his lips barely brushing over the delicate, smooth skin. It was then that Castiel turned around in his arms, regarded him in the bluish light of the night with a piercing, knowing look. Dean was completely baffled, smitten with Cas, as his lover’s hands came up to hold his face and look him deeply in the eye, making Dean’s innards melt warmly. The faintest idea of a smile crawled over Castiel’s lips, his blue eyes glistened wondrously, and Dean thought he had never seen a person so alluring, so captivating.

“I love you, too, Dean,” Castiel whispered ardently. Then he leaned closer to leave a feathery, careful kiss on Dean’s lips, his smooth mouth tickling Dean. His confession made Dean emotional as he kissed Castiel back passionately. His arms came around Castiel’s middle; he pulled him closer as he deepened their kiss, feeling his lover wince with arousal as their bodies intimately pressed together from hip to shoulder. They made love that night, taking their time to undo the other and make them come again and again, neither of them willed to fall asleep yet.

…

A couple of weeks later, it was a rainy Sunday afternoon in the middle of autumn, Dean drove the Impala towards Bobby’s place. The roads were glistening with rainwater, making them slippery, so even though he wanted to drive fast, he pulled himself together. After all, he wasn’t alone in the car. Castiel sat beside him on the passenger’s seat, again and again looking at him wide-eyed and completely nervous. His inner unrest unnerved Dean, made him fidgety, too. He looked over to Cas, saw how he was already sweating and biting his bottom lip, a worried expression lingering in his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Alright,” Dean finally said, “will you stop? You’re driving me crazy!”

Cas chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“What if they don’t like me? What if I say something stupid and mess up?”

Dean shook his head, amused and exasperated about Castiel’s behavior. For this afternoon, they had arranged a coffee and cake appointment at Bobby’s – but for the first time since Dean and Cas were dating, Sam, Jess, and Mary would also be there and get to know Dean’s other half. So, naturally, Cas was flustered, wanted them to like him, for he knew how much they meant to Dean – they were his family, after all. In the last weeks, they had sometimes visited Bobby and spent the evenings with him, having laid-back dinners and movie nights, so for Bobby, seeing Cas and Dean together as a couple now was nothing new.

Dean placed a calming hand on Cas’ knee and squeezed it reassuringly. He smiled at him, then returned his attention to the road.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I got a feeling they swoon over you just as much as I do.”

A few minutes later, Dean parked the Impala in front of Bobby’s house, and by now, Castiel looked as if he had stopped breathing, he was all uptight. Dean contemplated him, sitting there on the passenger’s seat exhaling against his nerves, and he couldn’t help thinking how much he loved this man. Smitten with affection for him, he leaned forward and left a lingering, heartfelt kiss on Cas’ cheek, felt how it made Cas smile. They got out of the car and walked up to the front door, hand in hand. When Bobby opened the door, they heard Mary crying terribly loudly in the background, ear-piercingly loud. Bobby gave them a meaningful look as he let them inside.

“Seems like our little angel is having a temper tantrum,” he commented and patted their shoulders amicably. Dean chuckled and walked towards the noisemaker, couldn’t wait to hold Mary in his arms again, crying or not crying. He found an exasperated looking Jess sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing Mary’s back soothingly while kissing her head and temples again and again. Sam was standing beside her and looked into Mary’s little face with fatherly sympathy written all over his features, while he rubbed Jess’ shoulder lovingly, then kissed her blonde head. Dean realized both of them had dark circles under their eyes as if they had slept poorly recently. Jessica greeted Dean with a gentle smile and sighed.

“She’s teething. The first front tooth coming out, and it’s hurting her gums.”

Dean melted with amorous rapture and rushed to his beloved niece, his arms already outstretched for her. Both Jessica and Sam chuckled as Jess uplifted Mary into Dean’s hands and when he started holding and rocking her. Immediately, he spoke soothingly to her, his words filled with care and love for his niece, as he marched up and down the kitchen while rubbing her tiny back.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay, baby girl, your favorite uncle is here. You’re going to be alright.”

“Yupp, we’re totally invisible to him now,” Sam noted sarcastically, making Dean laugh. While holding Mary in one arm, he reached out his other arm to pull his giant brother into a tight hug, felt Jess’ arms snake around his middle and hugging him too.

“Hey, none of you are teething. My poor little niece is in pain. She needs her uncle.”

And with that, he let go of them and held Mary with both hands, looked into her face, her big, brown eyes, where he detected the traces of his green. Big tears were rolling down her chubby cheeks, but she had stopped crying and beheld Dean with a sweet pout of her soft pink lips. She was as pretty as a doll, the first blonde locks gathering on her head, and Dean felt how his heart softened at the mere sight of her. He kissed away her tears, then blew a raspberry kiss right underneath her tiny chin, making her gurgle with high-pitched laughter and shrieking. Dean chuckled and did it again and again, nothing but tickled pink about Sam’s and Jessica’s baby girl.

At that moment, Castiel finally found the courage to walk into the kitchen with Bobby in tow, awkwardly waving at Sam and Jessica with a nervous “Hi”. Sam obviously detected his uneasiness, for he reacted with immense kindness and a welcoming attitude – he walked up to Cas and placed an easygoing hand on his shoulder, beheld him with a friendly smile.

“So good to finally meet you, Cas. I’m Sam, and this is my wonderful wife Jessica and our daughter Mary,” he said, which led to Jessica reaching out a hand and shaking Cas’, regarding Castiel as if she was seeing a ghost. Dean frowned at that, then recognized the starstruck look in Sam’s eyes as well, and then he remembered – oh yeah, back at law school, Castiel had been kind of famous to the other students, kind of an idol to everyone. Castiel seemed to notice their strange behavior too, for he helplessly caught Dean’s eyes, looking kind of lost. Dean smiled reassuringly at him, leaned over, and kissed his cheek.

“You’ve got to forgive them, Cas. As you know, they were at the same law school as you, and you were kind of famous there, you know? The exemplary student everyone aspired to be like. At least, that’s what they told me.”

Surprised, Cas tilted his head and regarded Sam and Jess with curiosity, as they appeared suddenly shamefaced and scratched their heads and necks abashedly. Apparently, he hadn’t known that.

“Yeah, well… we kept track of your academic career and avidly read all the papers and annotations you published. Brilliant thinker, that’s what the whole student community thought of you,” Sam admitted with a burst of shy laughter and shrugged his shoulders. Now Castiel turned beet-red, as if he was steaming, and stammered the next words.

“That’s a nice compliment, thank you. I had no idea… back at university, I was too busy devouring legislative texts and studying eagerly to notice anything going on around me or paying heed to what other students were doing or thinking.”

Dean and Bobby shared a silent look with raised eyebrows.

“Great, so you gathered all the law nerds at my house,” Bobby grumpily said to Dean, and they all chuckled at that. Sam had overheard him and chimed in, humor ringing in his voice.

“Yeah, it’s actually a little funny, to have two lawyers and a cop in the family,” he commented – which made Dean and Cas look at each other and grin, because they both remembered that Dean had told Castiel the same thing many, many months ago. Castiel shrugged his shoulders innocently and smirked.

“Well, and I’m a judge,” he said, and they all smirked. Dean couldn’t resist as he stepped closer towards his partner, little Mary still in his arms, as he leaned in and left a sweet, lingering kiss on Cas’ stubbly cheek.

“Yeah, we get it, Cas. We’re all hot, blue, and righteous,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows, whereupon he heard Sam’s unnerved groan and could practically feel him rolling his eyes without even seeing it. Sam sounded as if he was getting a severe headache due to Dean’s silliness.

“Dean, don’t tell me you just quoted a ZZ Top song to Cas,” he laughed. Dean turned around to him and mockingly made stupid faces at his younger brother. His sudden shift of attention didn’t sit well with baby Mary, for she started complaining with a whining noise. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean realized Cas moved closer to study the little girl in Dean’s arms, curiosity made his eyes gleam prettily. An enamored smile flashed over Castiel’s lips as Mary stopped crying to study the man she didn’t know. Fascination and awe were written all over her tiny features, simply made her look adorable.

“Awww, Cas, you made her stop crying,” Jess said happily. Now, little Mary gurgled with laughter, melting all their hearts, as they listened to her high, innocent voice. A small river of drool ran down her chin and dropped down on Dean’s shoulder, and Castiel wiped it away from Mary’s chin with a gentle thumb – all at once, Mary squealed with laughter, giggling and squirming, for it seemed Castiel had tickled her unintentionally. Dean secretly studied Castiel, how he and his niece regarded each other friendly, curiously, and it filled him up with a nameless joy, how Castiel’s eyes were simply radiating with nothing but love and devotion for Mary.

“She likes you,” he noticed, as Mary stretched out her little hands for Cas, touching the front of his shirt impatiently. Dean uplifted her a bit and motioned for Cas to come closer, as he brought their torsos together – Castiel took the hint and was suddenly wide-eyed, staring shocked at Jess and Sam, who were contemplating him with silent, amused smiles.

“May I?” he asked, and they nodded – Dean put little Mary in Castiel’s welcoming arms, and he held her with all the cautiousness and gentleness he could muster, as if he was holding a wonder of the world. Mary seemed content in his arms; Castiel cradled her softly and looked down into her face peacefully, their eyes glued to one another, as if they were having a mute conversation about things only the two of them understood. Both of them simply looked angelic to Dean, his heart was almost bursting with unbridled love for them rushing through his veins. Then Mary uplifted one chubby hand and touched Castiel’s chin, his nose, patted him, and it made Castiel burst out laughing with pure bliss; his demeanor had shifted from anxious to carefree within minutes. The fire of delight was burning brightly in his eyes as he regarded Sam, Jess, and Dean in turns, appearing extremely pleased and honored to be trusted with Mary.

“She is _gorgeous_ – good job!” he complimented the parents, and they grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Thanks, it was teamwork,” Sam said, and now Jessica rolled her eyes dramatically and facepalmed, making Dean snort with laughter. Apparently, he wasn’t the only chucklehead in the family.

A good while later, they had drunk their coffees and eaten plenty of slices of Bobby’s incredible pie, Jessica requested some handmade music – to Castiel’s surprise, a little bird had evidently told Sam and Jess that he could play the piano quite well, and now, of course, they wanted to hear something. Castiel gave Dean a glare as he strolled over to the piano, acting as if he was annoyed, which amused Dean greatly. He loved listening to Castiel playing the piano, even if that meant that his lover was a little pissed at him for revealing his talent to the rest of the family. Dean thought he could sit back now and listen to Cas all loosey-goosey, when suddenly, Bobby appeared in his field of vision, holding out his old guitar for Dean to take. At that, Castiel sneered, obviously pleased about Dean’s dumbstruck mien. Jessica clapped into her hands excitedly and Sam nodded at Dean encouragingly.

“Come on,” he said, “you and Cas should play something together.”

Dean sulked somewhat, but then he took the guitar and simultaneously handed little Mary over to Bobby. He walked over to Cas, gave him a meaningful, long look as he pulled up a chair close to the piano. Okay, so they were going to make some music together. Their eyes were resting on each other, considering their partner, as each of them probably thought of what song to play – they had made music together ever since they had become a couple plenty of times, but they had never played in front of an audience, except for Bobby. Suddenly, an inspired gleam appeared in Castiel’s eyes, lightened up his whole face with a charmingness that made Dean’s heart skip a beat. Castiel winked at him, then turned his attention to the piano keys.

Dean had to give a laugh when he heard Castiel’s hands play the first beat of the song he knew inside out, for he was reminded of the piece of advice he had given Castiel a while ago – if in doubt, always chose a Bob Seger song – and Castiel must have remembered he was one of Dean’s favorite musicians. He rejoiced when he started joining Castiel’s lively piano melodies and accompanied him with his guitar. It created a rich, atmospheric sound, which was filling up Bobby’s living room up to the ceiling. With a powerful, chesty voice, Dean sang, marveling at the satisfied smirk it brought to Castiel’s rosy, kissable lips as his fingers kept working on the piano.

_Just take those old records off the shelf_

_I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself_

_Today's music ain't got the same soul_

_I like that old time rock 'n' roll_

Dean was pleased to hear Bobby’s appreciative “Hell, yeah” and watched him get up with Mary, dancing with her clownishly through the room, though a faux-grim, concentrated mask stuck to his features – nevertheless, little Mary laughed heartily, and it nearly made Bobby’s tough façade crumble down. Sam smiled charmingly at Jessica and held out his hand invitingly – she took it, and they left the kitchen table and went into the living room as well, where the music was resounding animatedly. Dean could play the chords and sing the lyrics effortlessly, they were so heavily tattooed to his brain, so he could comfortably watch the lovely goofballs, that were his little family, how they were enjoying themselves while dancing and swaying to their music. His throat was strangely laced up with a joy close to pain, as he realized how utterly, stupidly happy he was, how precious this moment seemed. His and Castiel’s eyes met while they continued making music. An understanding look came into Castiel’s glorious blue eyes, and he smiled fondly at Dean. He mouthed “love you” to Dean, and it affected him deeply, only increased the rapture of this moment. When the song was over, he got up, the guitar still in his hands, and bent down to Castiel sitting at the piano. He touched his cheek with his free hand, made him look up at him.

“Love you, too”, he softly said with a smile, then he tilted his head down to kiss him ardently, grinning into the kiss as he heard Sam and Jess cheering them on.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (can you believe, just 1 more chapter, and this main story will be done?? But don't you worry, I will add the two time stamps chapters 19 and 20 pretty soon thereafter).
> 
> So, what do you think? Let me know :-)


	18. It's a wrap!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, so I'm awfully glad I'm finally able to publish the following chapter. It really took me a while to finish it, because a) I didn't wanna screw it up b) I didn't wanna finish it hahahaha if that makes sense. Remember, there will be two bonus chapters coming soon, chapter 19 is nearly done anyways... so, hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter 18 – It’s a wrap!**

### Two years later ###

“Dean?” Cas finally picked up his phone. Dean smiled happily when he heard his partner at the other end of the line. He sat in the parked Impala, right in the street where Castiel lived. It was early evening, and people were scurrying busily to and fro, keen on getting home from their long workday. Dean contemplated the hectic life within this downtown district, rather annoyed by the ongoing noisiness of traffic, chattering, swift footfalls…

“Hey, buddy. I’m parked in front of your apartment. You need to come down and join me for a ride. I wanna show you something, something important,” he explained secretively, a broad smile on his mouth. He couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice, nor the breathlessness. Castiel didn’t sound amused. He often used the early evenings to prepare for another day at court, reading tons of statements and counter statements. Apparently, he really, really liked his job and all this cryptic writing of lawyers. Now that Dean knew him for over two years, he had gotten to see plenty of this side of Cas, and even though it was kind of cute, it was also somewhat intimidating how focussed Castiel always was when he lost himself in mountains of paper. His concentration seemed endless, his attention always there, when he thumbed through the pages with a frown, muttering and taking notes. Dean had learned that Castiel didn’t like to be interrupted or distracted when he read. But today was an exception. An important one.

“Oh, Dean, I’m right in the middle of something. Just thirty more pages and I’m done. Can’t it wait?”

Dean scoffed, loving his nerdy boyfriend even more, whose enthusiasm for work was simply astounding.

“No, baby, it can’t wait. Like I told you, important. And if you refuse, I’ll just wait here and honk forever and annoy everyone, including you,” he teased. There was a meaningful moment of silence, as Cas comprehended the extent of Dean’s stubbornness. He thought he heard him breathe out a soft smile.

“Well, I could just call the cops on you,” Cas joked, and they both laughed.

“Do you want me to arrest myself?” Dean chuckled. Cas sighed dramatically.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be down in a minute. This better be none of your stupid jokes. Like that one time you abducted me to this ridiculous wrestling match in the middle of nowhere in this greasy old tent. I thought we were surrounded by cannibals and drug addicts.”

Dean grinned as the memory returned to him. Oh yeah, that had been a wild night.

“Clearly, you have no respect for Chuckles the Knucklebreaker, but I forgive you because I love you. Now get your ass down here.”

He didn’t even have to see him to know Cas was probably rolling his eyes at him right now. Dean was still grinning good-humored when Cas had hung up and when he continued waiting for him in the Impala. He was a little nervous, though, suffused with gleeful anticipation and his worst apprehensions. Finally, he saw Cas jogging over the street towards him, wearing a dark gray shirt and blue jeans, fitting to his lithe body perfectly. His hair was tousled and stuck out in all directions, but that somehow made him roguishly attractive. Dean’s mouth watered at the given view, and for a moment, he was nothing but dazed, braindead goo, stupefied with raw lust.

Then Cas opened the passenger door and sat down beside him, giving him a sinister, annoyed look. However, a sweet smile darted over his mouth as their eyes met, and Cas melted at last. He leaned over, into Dean’s personal space, fondness making his blue eyes gleam. Dean watched his eyes close, the yearning written all over Cas’ face, and then Cas kissed him ardently, applying the perfect amount of pressure to Dean’s lips. His head was spinning as his lids closed, too, and then he kissed Cas back, felt nothing but drawn to him. He smelt so good, his warmth overflowed Dean, and there was this unique taste of him on Dean’s tongue, the one he had gotten addicted to… At last, he found the willpower to let go, smacking Cas’ lips once more. Then he grinned at him and wiggled his eyebrows comically, as he produced a blindfold and held it up. Cas frowned unenthused.

“I gotta blindfold you, buddy. It’s a surprise.”

Cas breathed out through his nose, clearly expressing his disapproval.

“Come on, it’s no big deal” Dean insisted. Then Cas took the blindfold out of his hands and put it on, crossed his arms in front of his chest, sulking.

“You’re outrageous, but I love you,” Cas commented.

Dean grinned and started the engine.

“Yeah, right back at you, Cas. Love you, too.”

…

They didn’t drive for a long time, not even fifteen minutes – Dean guided them out of town, left the busy city center, and all its noisiness behind. Even though Castiel was blindfolded, he must have realized they were moving towards the outskirts of Sioux Falls, for there was less traffic and fewer intersection lights, which meant Dean could drive nearly unhindered. Dean steered the Impala to the dead-end street at last and parked the car in the turning bay. By now, his nerves had gone totally haywire, he was sweating with restlessness. His eyes fled to Cas, who was about to pull down the blindfold – instantly, Dean covered his hand with his and stopped him from doing so, which caused Cas to groan annoyed. Dean smiled.

“Just two more minutes, buddy. Come on, I’ll help you out of the car and lead the way.”

Dean exited the car and jogged over to Cas, opened the passenger door and helped him up. He felt giddy with excitement, his knees like jelly, as he wrapped an arm around his Castiel’s waist and guided them with slow steps. Dean looked around the quiet surroundings while they walked, taking in the peaceful scenery with gusto: Behind the end of the cul-de-sac, there were infinite cornfields and groves, an inviting dirt road started right there. It was wonderfully tranquil here, no sound of traffic could be heard; it was hard to believe that the racket of Sioux Fall’s urban life was just a ten-minute car drive away. They strolled along the front lawn, and Dean maneuvered Cas with gentle touches so that they ended up in the back yard of the property. There was a wooden porch there, and Dean stopped Cas right in front of it, touched his shoulders with a light squeeze.

“Okay, gimme one sec”, he said breathlessly, then he dashed away to the porch and quickly lit the candles he had put there earlier today. Dean regarded his work, thinking it looked kind of appealing – he had spread a blanket on the wooden porch, and on it, he had placed all kinds of finger food in addition to a nice bottle of wine and an ample supply of cool beer. Everywhere on the porch, he had lit innumerous tealights in their respective tiny copper-colored lanterns; their little orange flames danced frolicsomely, added to the cozy atmosphere. Standing on the porch, he turned around to his still-waiting partner, smiling affectionately at him; all the nervousness was gone and made room for determination, even though it felt like his heart might explode any minute now. He truly wanted this, and he hoped Castiel wanted this, too.

“Ready”, he said – he watched how Castiel tentatively took off the blindfold. The surprise coming to his eyes, how he looked around astonished, as he was still standing there on the unkempt lawn, brought a fond smile to Dean’s mouth, made him think it was a sight for sore eyes. Dean watched Castiel’s eyes taking in the house in front of him: It was a traditional country house, constructed in an old-fashioned English way, which meant it was made out of endurable bakestone. The windows were white, its façade was painted sky-blue – vines of ivy crawled towards the gray shingle-roof in snaky patterns. A few young maple trees bordered the property to the side where the cornfields were behind it; the garden was incredibly spacious. Finally, Castiel’s eyes came to rest on Dean, who was waiting for him on the porch with his stupidly romantic candlelight picnic. Confusion and amusement mingled in Castiel’s look. He slowly strolled towards Dean; the slighted ounce of mistrust written on his face.

“What’s going on?”

Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled. He sat down on the blanket and motioned Cas to do the same.

“Why are you always so suspicious? How many times have I abducted you somewhere and it turned out bad?”

He opened two bottles of beer and handed Castiel one, loved how the candlelight increased the blue of his eyes. Castiel scowled at him, tilted his head to the side.

“Do you really want me to answer that question?”

Grinning, Dean sipped his cool beer, feeling it wet his throat pleasantly. His eyes were fixated on Cas, who seemed fidgety, as he fingered the foodstuff laying on the picnic blanket, toying with everything mindlessly. Actually, Dean had wanted to have dinner first and then announce why he had brought them here, but he sympathized with Cas’ impatience and decided he couldn’t leave him in the dark any longer. He reached over the blanket and covered Castiel’s hand with his, searched for his attention. Their eyes locked. It seemed time had come to a halt, as Castiel regarded him with an innocent look, vulnerability, and uncertainty shining in his glance. Dean smiled fondly, trying to soothe his lover. He squeezed his hand mildly.

“Listen, Cas. I know it’s out of the blue, but I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. You hate your loud neighbors, I don’t like the hubbub downtown, and we’re at each other’s places all the time anyway. And so I thought, well… this house is up for sale.”

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath, then he bit on his bottom lip and contemplated Dean with a piercing gaze, which went right through him. It seemed to him that Castiel was weighing the odds, and this was what scared Dean shitless. What if Castiel decided their relationship wasn’t important enough for something like this? What if he thought it wouldn’t endure the course of time and fall apart in a few years? Dean wasn’t just proposing to buying a house together, it was more than that, and they were both well aware of it. It felt like a painful palpation of the heart, whether they thought they would still be together in the long run.

At last, a gorgeous smile crept to Castiel’s lips, and tears were welling in his eyes. Dean’s heart melted warmly as relief washed through him, having read Castiel’s mien effortlessly, knowing what he meant even without words. He watched Castiel scoot over, into his personal space. He seemed strangely touched, his smile was somewhat jittery, as he looked deeply into Dean’s eyes. Now Dean felt a fierce blush spread on his cheeks, felt as if on fire, as Castiel brought up a hand to his cheek, holding his gaze firmly. Castiel nodded, and his smile intensified as Dean sensed his facial features go off the rails with delighted stupor.

“Alright, baby. Let’s do it. Let’s buy that house,” Cas said quietly. Dean couldn’t believe it. This was really happening. At the next moment, Castiel bent his head forward, his lids falling shut, as a beautiful veil of sensuality covered his handsome face. Then he kissed Dean firmly, his hand wandering into Dean’s hair; he grabbed his skull and made him tilt his head, so that he could deepen their kiss, luring the air out of Dean’s lungs. Dean responded flabbergasted, his heart throbbing violently, as burning hot joy overwhelmed him, made his head spin. Breathless they parted, panting against each other’s kiss-wet mouths, their warm exhales colliding. Dean leaned his forehead against Castiel’s, willing the vertigo away as he smiled dizzily. Most overjoyed, he savored the moment, the pure feeling of bliss suffusing him.

It took a while until Dean felt like himself again. He let go of Castiel and got up again, stretched out a welcoming hand for Castiel to take.

“Come, I’ll show you around.”

Zest glowed beautifully in Castiel’s eyes, the smile on his kissable, pink lips seemed to last forever. He let Dean pull him up, then regarded him with a wary glance as Dean produced the key from his back pockets.

“How come you have a key already?”

Dean grinned winningly at him and wiggled his eyebrows comically.

“I bribed the real-estate agent.”

Castiel burst into laughter, making Dean chuckle too, as he unlocked the backdoor to their future house.

“Yeah, of course you did.”

…

Once inside, Dean turned on the light. He turned around to Cas with an expectant facial expression, his arms outstretched. He had seen the house’s interior before and was confident that, with a little work, they could make a lovely home out of it. Castiel looked around big-eyed, seeming a little lost in the big room. Of course, there was no furniture here, the walls were partly stripped of their wallpapers, the lamp was really the only thing in here apart from them.

“So, I thought this could be the living room. It’s big enough for a seating area for guests, and here we could place a couch and the TV…”, Dean said excitedly, pointing a finger at the parts of the room he had in mind. Castiel nodded pensively as he tried to imagine it, making Dean smile fondly at him.

“Look, I know it doesn’t look like much right now. But with a little bit of paint, nice flooring, and the right furniture, this place could really look awesome. And it’s our own. No more rents.”

Castiel beheld him with a humored smile, wagged his head. Then he gave Dean an unnerved look.

“Dean, don’t worry. I trust you on this, and I’m ready to work on this house with you.” He paused and walked over to Dean, slung an arm around his waist, and pulled him close, left an innocent kiss on his cheek. Dean smelled his lemony soapy scent, getting to his head with a powerful wave of infatuation. His lids closed on their own as his heart felt as if it grew bigger and bigger, as Castiel susurrated the next words softly into his ear.

“After all, it’s gonna be our home, right?”

Blindly, Dean turned his head, and his mouth found Castiel’s. He kissed him slowly, nearly coyly, suddenly choked with the realization of how much he loved this man. He let go at last, tried to calm his nerves, catch his breath. With an unexpected boost of confidence, he grabbed Castiel’s hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Come, I’ll show you around.”

Hand in hand, they strolled the empty rooms, while Dean explained how he had envisioned their future home. Downstairs, there was a very spacious living room, and a big kitchen, directly bordering on the wooden porch, where their picnic for dinner was still waiting for them. There was also a small storage place next to the kitchen and a guest bathroom. To the upper tier, a flight of stone stairs led. Castiel couldn’t stop marveling at the size of the house as Dean showed him a master bedroom, two smaller bedrooms, and a generous bathroom. All rooms were bright and well-kept. When they finally stopped in their future bedroom, Castiel finally exploded with laughter.

“Dean, we’re only two guys. Isn’t this way too big for us? What are we going to do with all that extra space?”

Dean had given this some thought, too, beforehand.

“Well, we could use one room as a guest room – you’ll never know who might turn up on your doorstep. You know, maybe if Sam and Jess argue and she throws him out of the house or something,” he chuckled. “And for the other room, we’ll find a way to use it. Maybe turn it into a music room or a reading room for you to read your legal papers.”

He was uncertain whether he should address the obvious elephant in the room; but then he caught Castiel’s piercing blue eyes, which were beholding him with an intuitive knowledge about what was occupying Dean’s mind – he wasn’t good at lying to him, so he smiled with a sigh and shrugged awkwardly.

“Also, you know, someday it may not just be the two of us anymore. We might actually wanna start a family or something. That’s what I thought…”, he admitted sheepishly, scratched his neck nervously. The fond glance Castiel gave him then nearly killed Dean with glee; he watched him walk up to him, allowed him to engulf him in a tight embrace. He hugged him back, his arms around Castiel’s hips, and buried his face in the soft cotton of his shirt. With delight, he deeply inhaled the scent he loved so dearly, which made his heart widen and shrink at the same time. He sensed Castiel’s fingernails delving into his flesh, holding him with a vehemence that was speaking volumes. His heart thudded nearly violently, he was so happy and flustered.

Later on, they ended up having the picnic Dean had planned. Their conversation was animated, as they discussed all the ideas on how to furniture and decorate their future home and what kind of renovation works needed to be done. Castiel was surprised to hear about the selling price, for with their two salaries, it was really affordable. Dean was certain he would never forget this enjoyable evening, how they had dinner together, how the candlelight was beautifully creating soft shadows on Castiel’s clean-cut features… Every notion of uncertainty had fallen from his body, had made room for pleasant anticipation.

When they had exhausted the bottle of wine, Castiel suddenly lay his hand over Dean’s and scooted closer, his cheeks tinged brightly red. He looked wonderfully relaxed, content. Suddenly, he kissed Dean fervently, nearly made him lose his balance. Dean was somewhat tipsy and drained from the excitement of the day – only too gladly he welcomed Castiel’s passionate kisses to distract him from his fatigue and replace it with something else. While kissing him hungrily, Castiel crawled into Dean’s lap, already undoing the buttons of his shirt. Dean hummed appreciatively when he felt Cas’ hands stroking over his torso, making him crave for more. With impatient movements, he unbuttoned his lover’s jeans, let go of him to pull his shirt over his head. He looked like a young god to Dean as the candlelight burned on his well-defined chest, glowed darkly in his lust-blown eyes. His head was spinning with love and an all-consuming want, as Castiel kissed him senseless, made him forget everything except for the two of them. They made love on that wooden porch that night, as if it was a little housewarming party they only had for themselves.

…

The following weeks seemed like a lucid dream to Dean, he could hardly believe the life he was leading was actually his: He, as well as Castiel, had quickly found new tenants for their flats, so their landlords were willing to show some lenience regarding their period of notice. Their future house already stood empty, just waited for them to sign all the contracts and legal documents and move in. Of course, neither of them could afford to buy a house at a moment’s notice, so they had to convince their bank to grant them a loan. Dean, as well as Castiel, had been wet through with perspiration, as they had waited for their appointment in the bank, dressed up in fine suits. The elder lady, who had counseled them, had told them their financial standing was good – with a wink and a charming smile, she had added, if they were married already, it would have been even better. Dean had nodded to himself, thinking she had a valid point. But they got the loan without any problems anyway. Once everything was arranged, they were ready to sign the sales contract for their house; a sensation of giddiness had washed through Dean as they had both signed, and he was certain, his beaming smile was just as bright as Castiel’s that day.

Not even a month had passed since the first time Dean had shown Castiel the house, and they were already moving in. Everything had taken place so swiftly, they barely had time to realize what was happening. Of course, it became more tangible when they started packing their stuff into moving cartons, and when they stood in the way in both of their apartments. Then the day of moving came. Neither Dean nor Castiel owned a lot of stuff, so they had declined almost all the help many people had offered them – only Sam and Bobby were there to help them get everything in the house, and it was enough. In the evening of that day, they had put together the new king-size bed Dean and Castiel had indulged themselves with, the wardrobes were built up, all lamps had been applied and were working… Their kitchen wasn’t ready-to-use yet, so the dinner they shared with Bobby and Sam consisted only out of plenty of beer and sandwiches, but they were all content with that. Dean kept looking around the unfamiliar rooms while he ate, wondering where to start with this adventure first. A lot of work was waiting for him and Cas in the following days and weeks. They had taken off two weeks to get most of the stuff necessary done. All walls needed new paint, the flooring had to be redone in all rooms, the sanitary installations had to be renewed…

A while later, Sammy and Bobby made their fare-wells, receiving a sing-song of “Thank yous” from Dean and Cas. When they lay in bed that evening, on their new mattress in their new bed in their new home, either of them was speechless, overwhelmed with the understanding that they were homeowners now. That feeling, however, quickly passed, when Dean turned his head to Cas and smiled at him in the oncoming twilight. Castiel’s smile was tentative, but certainty was in his touch, as he grabbed Dean’s hand and laid it in his. Their eyes were resting on one another, easily reading how the other was feeling, what he was thinking. Words weren’t needed, as their bodies moved together, their lips merging in a heartfelt, slow kiss. Dean slung an arm and a leg around Castiel’s frame, cuddled up to him, as his partner kissed him woozy, made his head spin with feverish desire.

It didn’t take long, and the house started to feel cozy, homely. The rooms fell into place, as all the furniture was arranged and all walls painted in light-toned, warm colors. Soon Dean didn’t feel like a guest or stranger in this house anymore, it seemed more and more etched into his DNA, as if it became a part of him. It felt good, quite natural, to come home to this house day in, day out. Castiel was thriving, seemed to have good time arranging everything to their liking – and he kept raving about their garden, what plants he intended to graft, it often made Dean smile enamored at him; Cas simply looked gorgeous when enthusiasm for something lit up his eyes, brought a mesmerizing smile to his kissable mouth.

Of course, they often had guests, there seemed to be an endless coming and going. Also, what amused Dean greatly, was Jessica’s excitement about him and Cas owning a house now together – she constantly brought them gifts she thought they might like and need for their shared household; Dean didn’t know whether to laugh or cry whenever he laid eyes on the dreadful, multi-colored kitchen towels she had given them, or when he glared at the stupid deco-chicken figures at their kitchen table, which were just sitting there gathering dust. They were kind of cute, but also kind of dumb. For some reason, unbeknownst to Dean, Castiel loved these small porcelain figures, so they _(well, Cas actually)_ had decided to keep them.

Living together with Castiel was just as delightful as Dean had expected – they had spent almost every day together anyway when they had still lived in their flats, so it wasn’t like a big change to them. What was different, however, was the wonderful silence on the outskirts of Sioux Falls. Every night, Dean slept like a baby. Also, he could now see Castiel sitting in his chair in their reading/music room, when he read one legal paper after the other; before, Dean had rarely seen him doing that, and now he could hardly stop. Even though it somewhat unnerved Castiel, he seemed strangely flattered whenever Dean joined him and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs to regard him while he read, never tiring of looking at his partner. It calmed Dean’s heart wonderfully to let his eyes rest on Castiel after a long day of work, to feel the sense of belonging, of having arrived where he belonged. All in all, Dean thought they had made a good call on buying this house, which started to become their forever home.

…

After a long, strenuous day at work, Dean came home in the early evening. It had been a scorching hot day – he was sweat through and exhausted from the ongoing heat. On top of that, he was emotionally spent, just felt so god damn tired and slack… The images of today were haunting him, glued to his mind. He kept hearing the screams, kept seeing the wounds and red blood everywhere… Agitated, he wiped over his eyes, as if that could erase all these visions.

He sauntered towards the garden, walking around the house, to find Cas. In nine out of ten cases, he was always in the garden in the evening, zealously working on their future veggie beds, flowers, and plants for the bees he loved so dearly. It always brought a smile to Dean’s lips to see his partner devoting himself so concentrated on his hobby, his hands and knees covered in soil, his hair ruffled and sweat through from the physical labor. And if he needed anything right now, it was the sight of Cas to ease his troubled mind.

As expected, Cas was in the garden; he knelt in front of a lavender bush he meant to plant. He noticed Dean approaching and raised his eyes to Dean, already a growing smile on his lips to greet Dean. But then he detected the weariness on Dean’s features, and the smile slipped from his mouth. A frown of worry came to his forehead and he got up, brushed the dirt from his knees. Already he was jogging towards Dean, apprehension written all over his face.

“Dean – are you alright? Are you hurt? There’s blood,” he asked and stopped right in front of Dean. He held both of Dean’s upper arms while his eyes scanned Dean’s body frantically, searching for possible injuries. Dean frowned. Blood? He paused for a second and looked down at himself, surprised to see dried blood on his forearms and hands; on his shirt and trousers, there were also dried spots of blood. He hadn’t even noticed. He sighed and smiled reassuringly at Cas. Damn it. He must have freaked him out.

“No, it’s not my blood. It’s… it’s been an awful long day, Cas.”

Fondness now appeared in Cas’ blue eyes, made them gleam beautifully, and he smiled softly at Dean. Dean was too wearied to return the smile. With pleasure, he let Castiel’s hands touch his cheeks, gently framing his face as if he was holding an invaluable treasure – it felt as if his touch alone was calming Dean, gave him strength, kept him grounded. He closed his eyes and welcomed Castiel’s warm, forceful kiss, their lips brushing against one another. They kissed slowly, standing in each other’s personal space. The heat of Cas’ body wafted towards Dean, touched a sore spot in his heart. If coming home felt like this, especially after a horrendous day like today, Dean was going to be alright. He let go of Cas and looked down into his eyes, delighted about the soft pink blush tinging Castiel’s cheeks. Cas looked up into Dean’s eyes with a mystic subtle smile on his lips; There was a meaningful expression in his eyes, that he understood Dean and how he was feeling, even without words uttered.

“Tell you what,” Cas said. “Why don’t you get a quick shower, and then I’ll kidnap you somewhere and you tell me all about your day. I’ll grab us some sandwiches and beers and we’ll leave in ten.”

Dean nodded, mustered up the remnants of his strengths, and smiled. He leaned forward to steal another quick kiss from Cas, loving how Cas hummed lowly into their kiss.

“Sounds like a plan.”

…

The heat had slowly died away, but the warmth was still lingering in the air, blanketing the whole country, as they drove off. Dean was too tired to drive, so Cas was behind the wheel. With his head resting against the window, Dean beheld his partner, warmth and affection for him blossoming in his heart. Castiel driving the Impala was a sight for sore eyes. He looked devastatingly handsome and capable – he was a good driver, otherwise Dean would have never entrusted his beloved car to Cas, lover or not. Cas noticed Dean’s eyes on him and gave him a quick side glance, grinning.

“What?”

Dean shook his head and chuckled a little to himself.

“Nothing. It’s just… it’s good to have you by my side, it’s all.”

Cas bestowed a tender smile on Dean, a deep fire of love burning in his eyes. While he continued driving, he reached out a hand and grabbed Dean’s knee, massaging it a little. His next words came out quiet, softly.

“Yeah, you too.”

They remained silent for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, as the sun ahead of them was sinking. The ever-blue sky was sprinkled with glowing stars already. A beautiful sundown plunged the firmament into vivid colors, orange, pink, and blue mixing. To both sides, Dean saw pastures and small groves they passed by, leaves, stalks, and branches swaying in the mild evening breeze. Infinite peace grew within him as he regarded the placid world in the evening hours. He had no idea where Cas was taking him to, but he didn’t mind. Just spending some time with him and letting Cas take care of him was enough to make him happy.

They stopped after a quarter of an hour in no-man’s-land. Cornfields were surrounding them, and there was a fenced-in concreted field nearby. Cas parked the car right at the wire mesh fence and gave Dean a significant look. With a confused frown, Dean read the warning sign on the fence, which told him that trespassing was forbidden and that setting foot on the premises included danger of death. Great. That sounded promising. Totally reassuring.

“Come on, let’s get out.”

Castiel still didn’t let Dean know where they were or what could be seen here, but they got out and sat down on the warm hood of the Impala. Cas opened the beer bottles for them and handed Dean one of the home-made sandwiches. They had their dinner like this, looking out at the fenced concrete field, while the golden evening light illuminated everything around them beautifully. While munching, Cas gave Dean a long look.

“Wanna tell me about your day? What happened?”

Dean sighed and smiled wistfully, cradling the cool bottle of beer in his hands. He twisted his bottom lip between his teeth, his thoughts dwelling on today’s events. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Guess you haven’t heard it on the news, then. Huh… there was a bad accident on the highway, with two cars and a truck involved. Many seriously injured, and the driver of the truck, he didn’t make it. Charlie and I were called up to block the road and divert traffic until the medics arrived… And after that, they towed the damaged cars and we had to help clean the streets of rubble.”

Dean clicked his tongue as a wave of agony washed over him, stabbed through his heart like a knife. He harrumphed.

“Some of the victims needed helicopter rescue, their wounds were so severe. I was afraid they might die before the medics made it. And Charlie and I took turns in comforting the victims until help came. There was a family with kids… they’re gonna be okay from what I heard, thank God. But hearing the little ones cry like that, having them see their parents bathed in blood. It was hard, kinda affected me a lot.”

Dean stopped and reflected on his words, inwardly sending prayers to the wounded of the accident. He sure hoped they were going to be alright. Except for the truck’s driver, all of them had survived. It could have turned out worse. He listened to Cas’ next words with closed eyes, they were a boon for his wrecked soul, appeased him.

“Oh, Dean. I’m sorry… but I’m glad you were there to take care of all these people. I’m sure they’re grateful you were there and reassured them.”

Castiel’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder, rubbing it caringly. Dean uplifted his head to contemplate his lover, and when he detected nothing but compassion and understanding in his piercing blue eyes, the weight on his soul was suddenly lifted. The dam was broken, and now he could breathe easier. Cas seemed to realize the inner turmoil of Dean’s soul, because now he moved closer, wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him towards him. Just like that, Dean melted against Castiel’s side, pillowed his head trustfully on Cas’s shoulder. He enjoyed his touch, how his hand stroked his hipbone absentmindedly, drawing small circles.

“You know, when you came home today, and I saw all that blood on you…”, Castiel said pensively, “I really had palpitations. You scared the hell out of me.”

Dean smiled sorrowfully, remembered the shock in Castiel’s eyes only too well.

“Sorry”, he mumbled, felt the chuckle running through Castiel’s torso. The next second, he felt a sweet kiss pressed against his temple, and Castiel’s fingers on his waist held him tighter.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. It just reminded me how dangerous your job is, and that you could be taken away from me any day… but I’m so proud of you, Dean, how you try to help and make everybody’s life better. To me, you’re a hero”, Castiel said. Now Dean actually looked up, caught the fond glimmer in Castiel’s eyes, his sweet subtle smile as he hand-brushed through Dean’s hair gently. Dean definitely didn’t feel like a hero, but it was true that he saw his job as an opportunity to help others and improve the world around him with small deeds. And it felt so good to have a partner who recognized that, who appreciated his efforts, and who loved him for that. With his thumb and forefinger, he touched Castiel’s jaw and held it playfully in a loose grip, looked him deeply in the eyes.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he heard himself murmur, making Castiel grin.

“Shut up, Winchester”, he said, then he leaned forward to leave a heartfelt, deep kiss on Dean’s mouth.

Many kisses followed until they were both breathless and their heads swam with delight. Smiling, Dean pecked Castiel’s lips once more, then he got up to put both their empty beer bottles on the ground. He looked up and realized the sky above them was already losing its glorious golden hue – blue was overtaking the heaven’s tent, and the stars peeked out shyly. Castiel lay down on the hood of the Impala, gesturing for Dean to do the same. He followed the invitation gladly and rested his head on Castiel’s pec, lying comfortably in Cas’ arm. They enjoyed the rural silence, the wind rushing quietly through the cornfields, and regarded the glow of the imminent sundown above them. A strange tranquility filled Dean, and he smiled a little to himself.

Suddenly, a roaring sound cut through the oncoming night. It sounded like a big engine, coming closer. Castiel remained unfazed, but Dean was worried. He raised his head to contemplate Cas with a frown, wondering about his lopsided smile.

“Don’t worry. Lay down again and see”, Cas soothed, and Dean lay down in his arm again, snuggled up to him. The engine noise became louder, vibrated through the air – gone was any idea of rural silence. And then, at once, a dark, huge shape flew over them, merely ten meters over their heads. Dean recognized it instantly and grinned excitedly. It was a puddle jumper, a small aircraft, for one or two passengers only. The few lights on its belly were glowing bluish as it flew passed them. It carried gusts of wind, which were now sweeping over Dean and Cas lying on the hood of the car, ruffled up their hair. Dean uplifted his head a little and saw the small aircraft was landing on the fenced-in, concrete field, which turned out to be a runway for landings. He turned around in Castiel’s arm and looked up into his face – his partner beheld him with a calm, knowing look, an affectionate smile lingering on his mouth. With his free hand, he stroked along Dean’s cheek tenderly, then his shoulder, down his side, and let it come to rest on his hipbone.

“It’s a flying field for hobby pilots. There’s usually a plane landing or taking off every ten minutes or so. I thought it might take your mind off things. I think it’s quite exhilarating when they shoot right over your head.”

Castiel’s consideration for him made Dean smile, made him feel all warm inside. He couldn’t even put into words how good Castiel’s thoughtfulness felt, to be taken care of like that. Dean propped up his elbow and rested his head on the palm of his hand, regarding Castiel for a long moment. He practically felt the fire glowing in his own eyes as he studied Cas, found the same heat, that was coursing through him, coming to life in Castiel’s deep, blue eyes. A sweet redness covered Castiel’s cheeks the longer they regarded one another openly, their eyes flitting over each other with interest.

Dean bit on his lower lip absentmindedly, let one hand stroke over Castiel’s clothed torso. He enjoyed the effect it had on him, how Cas tensed up with want, how his breaths accelerated. A dark light appeared in Cas’ eyes, and he moved closer to Dean. With his slender, long fingers, Castiel suddenly stroked through Dean’s short hair fondly while beholding him closely. A surge of arousal overwhelmed Dean, goosebumps appeared all over his body – delight burned hotly within him as Castiel tilted his head and closed his eyes, brought their lips together to a slow, deep kiss. Before Dean knew what was happening, he found himself replying eagerly, kissing Cas fervently. Cas’ hand wandered under his shirt, stroked his smooth, hot skin, glided over his pecs, over his ribs, again and again.

The sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving a vibrant tangerine afterglow on the firmament. In the bluish twilight of the oncoming night, Dean and Cas were well hidden from any prying eyes. They lay there on the Impala’s hood and made out, until Dean’s head was spinning, filled with nothing but a wonderful mental vacuum. Castiel’s kisses tickled on his lips, bereft him of his breaths, made his blood boil. He felt Cas’ hands fisting his hair, snaking under his shirt, his touches varying from featherlight touches to vehement, urgent ones. And Dean was barely holding it together, it felt so good. With a lust-fogged mind, he found himself kissing Castiel’s throat, sensed how it made him twitch aroused. His surprised moan and the way he held onto Dean tighter told Dean everything he needed to know about the state Castiel currently was in. He dared to let one hand glide into Cas’ jeans, felt him hard and ready, throbbing impatiently in his palm.

For a second, he let go of Cas and looked down into his face, wondrously moved by his sensual mien, his lust-hooded lids. They contemplated one another for a moment, subtle small smiles playing around their mouths. A strange, far-reaching emotion got a hold of Dean, added to the vertigo-inducing storm he was already in – from head to toe, he was filled with bliss, gratefulness, to have someone like Castiel in his life, who could make him feel so damn good after such a horrendous day. When he leaned down again to capture his lips, his kiss was gentle, spoke of all the unsaid things written all over Dean’s heart. Castiel seemed to have caught the change in the air, for he melted into Dean completely, slung his arms around him and held him tightly while they kissed slowly, deeply.

Suddenly, another plane flew over them, made them jump alarmed. Laughing, Dean broke away from Cas and beheld him, how humor was shining brightly in his night-lit eyes. Dean grinned amused, patted Cas’ cheek amicably.

“You didn’t calculate on a plane distracting you from making out with me,” he cheekily said. Cas glared faux-annoyed at him. Then he brought a hand to Dean’s cheek and smiled at him winningly. His charming wink made Dean somewhat baffled.

“Come here…”, Cas rasped, and pulled down Dean’s head to kiss him again, and Dean was only too pleased to follow his invitation.

…

It was a lazy Sunday morning, and for once, Dean’s shift schedule allowed him a day off on a weekend with Castiel. He was woken up by chaste kisses pressed into his neck, and when Dean turned around, he found a smiling Castiel looking at him with profound love burning in his gorgeous blue eyes. The golden sunlight was glowing behind him and filled up their quiet bedroom, created a halo around Castiel’s head. He truly looked angelic, and Dean brought up a hand to frame his clean-cut face and study him, feeling his love for him deepen. His brain was still fogged with sleep, so he didn’t trust his mouth to form the proper words his heart harbored – so he leaned closer and kissed Castiel slowly, laying all his heart into kissing him. He felt his partner wince with arousal, and when they looked at each other again, the tension between them was palpable, made the air sizzle.

“Morning, honey”, Dean rasped, his voice husky at this early morning hour.

“Morning, baby.”

Castiel smiled at him, then he shifted closer, wrapped an arm around Dean’s hip under the blanket, and pulled him close against his body. Castiel felt sleep-warm, his limbs lithe and smooth against Dean’s body, enticingly. A shiver ran through Dean as he sensed Castiel’s body heat through the thin layer of his T-shirt, how their torsos were tightly pressed together as they breathed against one another. His head was swimming, his insides felt like jelly, when Cas tightened the grip on his waist, his fingers digging into Dean’s pliant flesh, and when he tilted his head to kiss Dean ardently, making him forget the whole world. He responded to his kiss, allowed Castiel to turn them, so that he could pin Dean right underneath him. When they separated for a second, panting, their eyes met, and even without words, they knew where they wanted this to head to. Cas bent his head down, left open-mouthed kisses on Dean’s crook of the neck, causing Dean to fist his dark hair in return, as he was searching for something to hold on to. Incredible heat pooled in his abdomen, made him grow hard, as Castiel kissed and teased all the sweet spots he had found over the years. Dean was like melting butter under Cas’ hands, thoroughly enjoyed his caresses, his determination to make Dean come undone. With Cas, it was easy for Dean to let go of any inhibitions, to lose control. Before he knew it, he heard his own soft moans, sensed his body trembling with passion, reacting to the caresses of his lover, as Castiel worked on wrecking him perfectly.

With a resoluteness that made Dean’s mouth go dry with arousal, Castiel touched Dean’s thighs and shoved them apart, slid between them. Dean could instantly feel the heat and weight of Cas’ erection pressing against him, and he gulped nervously, flustered with anticipation. Before he had time to get used to this sensation, Castiel rucked up Dean’s shirt to expose his lithe torso, his tanned skin, and left airy, tickling kisses on his pecs and stomach, wandering lower and lower. Lust grew within Dean, spread through his veins like liquid fire, as he sensed Castiel’s nimble fingers on the waistband of his boxer shorts, stroking them down Dean’s hip. Simultaneously, his hands glided along the insides of Dean’s thighs, fondled the sensitive skin there, which elicited another shaky moan from Dean. It came naturally to Dean to wrap his arms around Castiel’s shoulders and pull him closer, while his hands traveled down the length of his torso and finally grabbed the firm globes of his butt appreciatively. It made Cas stop his caresses and regard Dean, all-consuming desire beautifying his features, his eyes glistening darkly with dilated pupils. Cas smiled lopsidedly.

“You know, we’ve got all day. No plans, no chores”, he said nonchalantly. Dean let one forefinger slide along his lover’s chest, down towards his happy trail. He noticed Castiel sucked in a sharp breath when Dean’s forefinger sneaked under his boxer shorts, then he engulfed Castiel’s velvety, hot hard dick in a tight grip, squeezed it lightly. It made Castiel close his eyes, a low moan fell from his lips, and it sounded like sweet music to Dean.

“You mean we could stay in bed all day…”, he finished Castiel’s train of thought, smiling when the other just nodded, his eyes closed, as he was momentarily overcome with the caresses Dean’s hand brought him. Dean nodded and smirked, started to stroke Cas with slow, hard moves. He left a trail of airy kisses on Cas’ throat, hummed appreciatively against his smooth skin.

“I like the way you think…”

…

It took a good while until they left their bed this morning. After a long, shared shower, during which they had both almost fallen asleep due to their prior physical activities, they had managed to stroll downstairs to the kitchen. Dean had insisted to make breakfast for once, claiming they needed lots of carbs and sugar after their “workout”, so on the menu for today were waffles with strawberries and cream. Castiel didn’t complain, just grinned at Dean and regarded him as if he had hung the moon for him, stars practically glowing in his eyes. It made Dean all flustered and blush a little. Now he expertly stirred the batter for the waffles, having picked up a trick or two from Cas’ cooking skills over the years. The radio was quietly playing in the background with Dean’s favorite station, one that played old classic rock.

He was humming to “Gimme three steps” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, tapping with his barefoot on the tiled floor, and smiling to himself, as he poured the first portion of batter into the sizzling pan. This song never failed to brighten his mood, and after all, Dean was in a good mood already. The weather was fine, rich golden sunlight filled their kitchen and bordering the living room, he had all day with Cas, could make use of the day however he wanted… However, a frown came to his forehead when he listened to the overall silence in the kitchen, despite the radio. Castiel was awfully quiet, which usually meant he was brooding over something. Dean had come to know him that well that he instantly and effortlessly picked up the variances of his mood. He turned around and found his partner sitting there at the kitchen table, his elbows propped up, his jaw resting in his hands, as he stared absentmindedly into space, as if he wasn’t even here. An affectionate smile came to Dean’s mouth as he beheld the man he loved. He knew that look. Knew, that Castiel was wracking his brain about something.

Quickly, Dean turned around, lifted the ready waffle out of the pan, and put another doll of batter in. He lowered the heat of the stove, turned down the music a bit, and took a seat right opposite from Cas. His lover jumped with a fright, making them both smirk amused. Dean reached out his hand over the table and gently took Castiel’s in his, kneaded his fingers playfully. A sweet, subtle smiled appeared on Cas’ mouth, his eyes glimmered with the appreciation he obviously felt for Dean’s attentive kindness.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?” Dean prompted him to open up. Cas sighed and looked down, shrugged helplessly.

“Do you remember when I told you I wanna do some kind of charity work?” he said.

“… because you became a judge to do something good for your community, but you don’t feel like it’s enough?” Dean finished his train of thought. Castiel had often uttered his wish to do more with his spare time, something with a deeper meaning, but somehow, he had never acted on said wish. He watched Castiel nod, then bit on his bottom lip pensively. Dean squeezed his hand lightly, encouragingly.

“Yes. I’ve been giving it some thought, and I really wanna do something soon. Like, collect garbage in the forest or at the river banks or something, or help out in a soup kitchen. You know, I did something like that the year we got together, when I was on that road trip for a few months, and I really liked that. But… somehow, none of this seems big enough, as if it cannot satisfy this stupid big urge within me to do good.”

Dean got up, because the sounds coming from the pan sounded as if his second waffle needed rescue asap. He let go of Castiel’s hand, leaned over, and left a heartfelt, lingering kiss on his cheek, then he jogged over to the stove, making Castiel chuckle lightly.

“It’s not stupid, baby. I think it’s wonderful. You’re very altruistic, a real idealist, and you’re awesome for that. Lemme think… you know,” Dean said aloud, a sudden idea springing to his mind, “we have a big garden, and we’re making music together all the time anyway. Why don’t you and I do some charity concerts in our backyard? We could collect donations for whatever good cause you want. Jess is good with graphics and prints, I bet she could make posters or something easily if we ask her nicely.”

While baking another waffle, Dean looked around to Cas to read the reaction on his face. He couldn’t help but grin tickled pink when he saw a stunned Castiel, goggle at him wide-eyed, his jaw dropped.

“That’s a _great_ idea! I would love that… But Dean, I can’t ask that of you. I didn’t wanna drag you into this, and you don’t have to do that to help me or-“

Dean rolled his eyes and flipped another waffle on the plate. God, help him, with his obstinate, silly man. He interrupted his partner before he could talk even more nonsense.

“Cas, don’t be stupid. Of course, I wanna do that with you – it makes you feel good, it’s for a good cause, I get extra credit for my karma, it’s a win-win-win situation,” he argued, then looked over his shoulder to wink at Cas charmingly. A moved expression came to Castiel’s features; he then got up and approached Dean, a tentative smile on his mouth. With sudden certainty, he wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him close against him, their faces only inches apart. The air left Dean’s lungs, startled he stared into Castiel’s mesmerizing blue eyes. The grip of Cas’ fingers intensified as he breathed hotly against Dean’s mouth, his eyes flitting all over Dean’s features.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Cas said with an enchanting smile, his lips almost brushing Dean’s. A shudder of delight ran down Dean’s spine, made him forget everything for a moment, but Castiel’s eyes, his tempting mouth, the warmth of his body… his whole world in this second was Cas. He listened to his hectic breaths, his roaring heart violently jumping up and down in his chest. He was at a loss for words, succumbed to Castiel’s charm, as the other man closed his eyes and kissed him ardently and pulled him even closer against his chest.

…

It was in the middle of autumn when their first charity concert took place. And even though the air was somewhat crisp, the sky was clear and the weather was fine. At daytime, it wasn’t too cold yet, but the nights in fall were already icy – for that, Dean and Cas had built a pyre in their garden, which they meant to burn off later that day. Now it was in the late afternoon, and the attendees were arriving. In the garden, they had pushed together a few tables for an open buffet – Castiel had gone rampage in the kitchen for hours, baking one cake after the other. The tables were practically yielding to the weight of all these beautifully decorated cupcakes, cakes, and cookies.

Colorful balloons and ribbons adorned the garden everywhere; Dean had had a blast putting them into the trees or around their garden fence. Dean’s eyes wandered over to the piano, his guitar, and mic, waiting for him and Cas where they had decided their “stage” was going to be. They had only managed to borrow a few chairs from other neighbors, so most of the guests would have to stand during their little concert, but Dean thought it was going to be okay. At the moment, unwound instrumental music boomed through the boxes while everyone arrived in dribs and drabs.

Dean and Cas had donned dark blue matching tuxedos, getting dressed up for the special occasion; the only fine distinction between their outfits, however, was Castiel’s tie was crimson, while Dean’s was cerulean. Now they were both standing at the open garden gate, welcoming one guest after the other; Sam and Jess were also there helping them and directing the guests inside, showing them around. Dean gave his partner a side glance, read the great nervousness on his features. It was their first time they played in front of such a big crowd, so their nerves were understandably quite frayed. Over three hundred people had come, their garden was packed with people. All neighbors had come, their colleagues, friends, Dean’s family, Jessica’s family, just about everyone they knew, willing to support their charity event. Their guests were chattering loudly, mingling, laughing, while they got themselves drinks and food, donating whatever they felt like into the donation boxes on the bar tables. Tonight, they were collecting money for the children’s home Castiel had stayed in after his mother had passed – he still felt connected to the institution, obliged to return something to them.

Dean beheld him fondly, a million thoughts flitting through his mind. This was important, felt so much bigger than them. He smiled tentatively, took a step forward into Cas’ personal space. Playfully he adjusted Castiel’s tie, their eyes locked. Dean tried to smile encouragingly at his partner to reassure him, as he saw how taut his posture was, how jittery he seemed. He quickly kissed his lips, felt Cas’ smiling against his own mouth.

“Hey”, Dean softly said, “you’ll ace this. Let’s go, I think they’re waiting for us.”

Cas nodded, wide-eyed. He seemed overwhelmed, nothing but flustered, when Dean took his hand in his and surely led him through the crowd, towards their stage. Dean’s tension immediately vaporized once he maneuvered Cas to his piano and gripped his guitar thereafter. He sat down on his chair, plugged in his guitar, and checked his mic. He regarded the crowd, all their eyes resting on the two of them, gleeful anticipation was written all over their faces. Dean took a deep breath, then he turned his head to estimate how Cas was doing. Their eyes met, and Dean couldn’t help but smile, thinking how gorgeous Cas looked tonight. A beautiful blush of nervousness painted his cheeks pink, and the smile he gave Dean in return was coy and sweet. Dean winked at him and nodded, wordlessly told him he was ready. Immediately, Cas’ features became highly focused, a mask of concentration as he turned his attention to the piano. The first notes fell from his fingers effortlessly, and the crowd became silent.

Dean listened attentively to Castiel playing the piano, counted the tacts of the piece, for he had to start accompanying Cas after the fourth tact. Once he started strumming his guitar, his strings and the piano mingled perfectly, created a rich, atmospheric sound, which filled the whole garden. Dean rejoiced at the sound, how well-attuned his and Castiel’s music was, how symbiotic it felt. An enamored sigh went through the crowd when they recognized the melody Dean played on the guitar, underlined by Castiel’s laid-back piano; they played “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” in a jazzy, slow manner, which actually made Dean swing a little on his chair. As usual when he got lost in making music, his foot tapped the rhythm. He was having such a good time, he even forgot to be nervous about having to sing in front of all these people. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he knew it, and he hit every note perfectly, his voice not failing him as he sang strongly and clearly.

_Somewhere over the rainbow way up high_

_There's a land that I’ve heard of once in a lullaby_

_Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue_

_And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true_

When they had played the last notes, they received a hurricane of applause; it felt damn good, magnificent. Dean once more briefly looked at Cas, who was now smirking at him, probably thinking the same thing as Dean: That he was proud of the other for daring to do something like this, and how awesome it was to do good – and on top of that, _together_ with the man he loved. They played piece after piece, their repertoire ranging from rock to classical music; sometimes Dean sang, sometimes they just played instrumental compositions, allowed the guitar and piano to take over while the crowd thoughtfully wallowed in memories, gently swaying to the music. Whenever they played livelier pieces, a few frisky couples started dancing together, and it was a sight for sore eyes, filled Dean with enthusiasm.

For nearly two hours they played, until Dean’s fingertips felt numb from the guitar strings and his voice was hoarse from all the singing. Castiel was sweat through, his hair dark and ruffled, as he played the last notes of their final piece on his piano. They received a standing ovation, the applause jubilant and extensive, as they stood side by side in front of the crowd, their arms slung around the other man. Dean took in the sight in front of him, the cheerful crowd, the joy glowing brightly in their eyes. His grip around Castiel’s waist tightened, as he was overwhelmed with the intensity of the moment. At last, the crowd calmed down when Cas took the mic to address them. He thanked them for coming and supporting their cause and announced they would count the money now and that everyone was welcomed to stay for the party. The music started again from the boxes, now with more danceable tunes – and even though some left, most of the guests stayed for the rest of the evening.

Sam and Jess helped Dean and Cas count the money, while everyone else continued having a good time, dancing, drinking, and eating. Dean couldn’t wipe the stupid happy grin from his mouth, neither could Cas. They were riding on the wave of their high, it was like a never-ending rapture, after all the adrenaline from their performance left their bodies, dopamine taking over their brains. All of them were baffled with the generosity the crowd had shown tonight when they gathered the sum of all donations – they had collected nearly 2300 dollars.

Dean shoved Castiel towards the stage and made him announce the result, thinking it was his time to shine alone now; after all, if it hadn’t been for him, Dean would have never done or dared to do something like this charity concert. The guests went wild, deafening cheers resounding, as Castiel announced the size of the donation. Then Castiel let go of the mic, walked over to Dean, and slung an arm around his shoulder, pulled him closer. He kissed his cheek energetically, grinned against Dean’s skin. Dean could practically feel Cas’ body vibrate, thought it was contagious. Goosebumps appeared all over his body, an electric shiver ran down his spine, as he sensed Cas’ nose in the hair right above his temple, how his hot breath ghosted into his ear.

“Let’s do this again sometime soon”, Cas said, making Dean chuckle and nod.

…

A few moments later, Dean had abducted them to a calmer section of their garden, so that they could have a moment to themselves. It seemed everyone wanted to congratulate them for a splendid evening and for the incredible amount of money they had collected – but Dean had realized that Castiel needed a break, and he himself also wouldn’t have minded a little breather. With cool beers, they now sat on some chairs at the other end of the garden, a few feet away from the bustling activity. Dean held Castiel’s hand loosely in his, sometimes kneaded his fingers playfully, absentmindedly. To feel the weight and warmth of his fingers in his was soothing to Dean, reassuring. A tentative smile graced Castiel’s mouth as their eyes met. Dean was ruminative, memories of the past springing to his mind suddenly.

“You know, I was just thinking…”, he said slowly, “do you remember that summer at Bobby’s, the year we got together, that one evening when we went swimming by the small river near Bobby’s house?”

Cas frowned at him, surprised and amused about Dean mentioning this specific memory out of the blue. He scoffed.

“You mean that one time you stripped down in front of me and acted as if it wasn’t a big deal to skinny-dip? And then you seduced me… yeah, I remember it vividly,” Cas laughed. “Why?”

Dean rolled his eyes faux-annoyed and shook his head.

“Of course, you only remember that part, lech. No, I meant the conversation we had… I asked you what you would do with your life if you had won the lottery, if you never had to work again. Well, now we both know you haven’t won the lottery, but you said you wanted to have a house with a garden, make music, and do some charity work… so, I think you can cross all of that off your bucket list,” he said with a kind smile. Castiel’s eyes were practically brimming over with taken aback delight that Dean remembered this evening, which lay back so many years. He squeezed Dean’s hand, a deeply touched expression flitting over his features.

“I can’t believe you still remember that”, he said somewhat choked with emotion.

“That’s not the point”, Dean said good-humored. “What I meant to ask you… is it like you imagined it?”

At that, Castiel leaned over, his face suddenly right in front of Dean’s. His eyes were scanning Dean attentively, zest for life glowing radiantly in Castiel’s gorgeous deep blue eyes. A lump was forming in Dean’s throat, as his joy became so overwhelming, it was hard to stand.

“No. It’s even better”, Castiel said earnestly, then he leaned forward to kiss Dean with all his heart.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapter is ridiculously sappy, fluffy and romantic, but I don't really care, I wanted it, so I wrote it.  
> So, if you wanna close the book of this story now, okay, but remember there are 2 bonus-chapters as time-stamps coming soon.  
> I can hint that we will see Aaron in again in chapter 19. 
> 
> Well :-) How did I do? Are you happy? Did you like it? Let me know what you think! :)


	19. Bonus chapter 1: Deus ex machina 1/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg guys, first of all, THANKS SO MUCH for your lovely reviews, kudos and bookmarks. I was very happy to receive them and that you liked the main story <3
> 
> Now, back to my chaos. I'm so sorry xDD I *had* to split bonus chapter 1 into two chapters, it became a monstrous monster, far over 10k. So, now we have 21 chapters - 18 the main story, 19 and 20 is bonus chapter 1 split in two, and then bonus chapter 2 as chapter 21. *facepalms* I'm good at planning, not at executing! :D Just kidding...
> 
> **Ok, so I wanna dedicate this chapter to AO3 user eorozco2720, who left reviews on all chapters, and whose reviews really cheered me up - thanks so much!!**
> 
> Also, I wonder if you'll figure out what the "deus ex machina" is in this bonus chapter - keep it in mind and search for it in the second part of it ;-)
> 
> Hope y'all like this chapter! Happy reading!

**Bonus Chapter 1: Chapter 19 – Deus ex machina (1)**

### One year later ###

It was the middle of June, and the summer’s heat had started to weigh down on the country. The weather was constantly changing between bone-dry, sunny days, and hail and thunderstorms on the other hand. Dean sat on the porch with a cold beer in his hand, studying his surroundings as evening was arriving after a long day of physical work out in the open. From his jeans, he wiped away some snippets of the lawn he had just mowed, then he used his close-fitting white tank top to brush the sweat from his brow. Despite the ongoing heat and lack of rain, their garden looked lush and thrived perfectly. Dean contemplated Castiel at the other end of their property, watering the plants highly concentrated. Dean smiled a little to himself when he beheld his partner. He knew that most of the plants were only still alive due to Castiel’s unswerving care; between the two of them, he had the green thumb, and he made sure to water the plants, to fertilize them, and repot them if necessary.

Dean sighed happily when he looked around their little Eden, remembering only too well how the place had looked like when they had moved in: Rampant weeds as far as the eye could see, molehills, and dried-out lawns everywhere. Now, in comparison, their yard was unrecognizably turned. A part of the garden was reserved for bees, because Castiel was so fond of them, and there grew a variety of flowers and herbs: Purple bellflowers and high bushes of lavender, which also all kinds of butterflies enjoyed, and there was sage, and pretty fiddlenecks and plain dog daisies. The garden was always filled with the ongoing humming of bees, and Castiel often sat in the middle of all those flowers and herbs and watched the little creatures with nothing but bliss and a happy smile on his face.

Another part of the garden was Dean’s playground – because he had insisted, if they “wasted” a good part of the area for nothing but bees, there should also be a part for pragmatic purposes – veggie beds. Dean wasn’t nearly as committed and caring about plants as Castiel was, and he needed to read up on everything regarding plants online, but his efforts seemed to pay off. Since last year, they grew tomatoes, carrots, courgettes, and pumpkins, and were especially liked by their neighbors for this, because the harvest was so productive that they gave away many veggies to them – even after they donated a lot, also to Sam, Jess, and Bobby, of course, there was plenty left for the two of them. And you could only eat courgettes so often without growing sick of them.

Dean had finished drinking his beer and watched Castiel turning off the water, rolling up the garden hose. He quickly went into the house to stow away his empty bottle of beer. When he returned to the garden, Cas seemed to have disappeared, but then Dean spotted him, sitting right in the midst of his bee pasture. Barefooted, he stepped down the porch and sauntered through the garden, over the wet and cold lawn, the grass tickling under his feet. Golden sunlight basked the garden into a placid, beautiful place. Dean watched the few clouds rushing along the firmament, as a soft breeze was toying with them. It continued its way through the canopies of the sycamores standing at the end of their property, and the wind rustled soothingly through the leaves.

When he had walked up to Cas, he stopped right in front of him and looked down at his lover. Castiel was sitting there cross-legged, his hands in his laps, and he looked a little like a waggish fairy, who was hiding from its tribe in the middle of flowers: He was topless and just wearing a pair of jeans shorts; his skin was tanned, his hair ruffled, and he had a cute little sunburn on the bridge of his nose. Their eyes met, and Dean recognized the vivid sparkle in Castiel’s wonderful blue eyes. They smiled at one another. Dean sensed nothing but affection for his lover, wondered how anyone could be so gorgeous, charming, and, on top of that, extremely hot. Castiel nodded at the flowers around him, creating a mesh of many-colored petals, blades, and leaves. Bees were flying all around him, some of them even crawled over his arms and torso, but he didn’t even flinch. Castiel sighed and smiled a deeply content smile.

“Beautiful, right?” he said with his chesty voice. A sweet surge of devotion rushed through Dean, and he sank down on his knees, right next to Castiel. Cas looked at him rather perplexed when Dean raised a hand to his face and cradled it gently. He looked deeply into Castiel’s eyes with a firm look, sensed how he tensed up a little, how he sucked in a nervous breath.

“Yeah, truly beautiful,” he rasped, half in earnest, half in jest, and he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

The faint shadow of a pretty blush fled over Castiel’s cheeks, tinted them rosy. A smile flickered across Castiel’s face when he noticed how Dean’s eyes returned to his lips again and again, famishing for his kisses. Dean gave in to temptation then, tilted his head and pressed his lips against Castiel’s, their eyes falling shut. Slowly he kissed Cas, loving how he yielded to his lead, how he kissed him back with subtle force as their lips slid together. He just couldn’t believe that after all these years of their relationships, it still felt so amazing to kiss him and to be kissed by him. As it started to overwhelm him, Dean let go then and gave him a little peck on the cheek, his mouth lingering on his skin for a moment. He had other plans. The next words, he hotly whispered into Castiel’s ears, felt him tense up with desire as Dean’s lips brushed over his lobe.

“You stay right where you are. Don’t move, I get my camera. You look so gorgeous, I wanna take a picture.”

He was grinning to himself when he quickly walked back into the house, the vision of Castiel bare-chested in between all those flowers sticking to his inner eye. His heart was pounding like a drum, beating a soul-stirring rhythm Dean listened to half in trance. He kept thinking of Castiel’s lucid eyes, the mischief and love for Dean so clearly mirrored in his glances…

When he returned to the garden, he was a little disappointed to see the sun’s light had vanished quickly, and that there was only an afterglow of the formerly golden rays of light. Also, Castiel wasn’t sitting in his flowerbed anymore – he was standing upright and looking into the distance. His posture was taut, his hands formed to tight fists. Dean read the tension in his body immediately, knew that something was wrong. With swift steps he approached Cas and stopped right beside him, a confused frown coming to his forehead. Cas didn’t look at him but kept staring into the surrounding fields behind their property, way off behind their cerulean wooden fence. A veil of grimness had fallen over Castiel’s features. Dean was surprised to see the cold, deadly gleam appearing in his blue eyes, how he clenched his jaw.

“Cas, what’s up?” Dean asked breathlessly. Castiel swallowed nervously and took a deep breath.

“I just saw Aaron. Right there in the fields, looking at me,” he said darkly. All of Dean’s happiness vanished into thin air. A fierce maelstrom caught him and sucked him in – a feeling of unease grew within him, but reason kept his panic at bay, at least for now.

“How? I mean, it’s been years. Why would he show up out of nowhere?” he asked. Castiel still didn’t look at him but kept scanning the area, nothing but pure fear in his look.

“I don’t know, Dean,” he mumbled absentmindedly. Dean bit on his bottom lip, wondering if Castiel was right, or if he was just seeing ghosts. For a few moments, they both just stood there as they surveyed the fields, shrubberies, and paths, both of them looking for Aaron. Twilight crawled up to them, plunged everything into perse darkness. It grew cold. Nothing moved, and there was no one in sight. Cas must have been wrong. Dean considered him for a moment, sympathy pulling at his hearstrings. Some wounds just never healed – or once you thought they had healed, some of them suddenly burst open again, for whatever reason. Maybe something had recently happened, that made Castiel relive the trauma he had been through all those years ago. With caution, Dean placed his warm hand on Castiel’s bare back, sensing the cold sweat on his skin. He took a step closer and leaned his side against Castiel’s, then he wrapped a warming arm around him and pulled him closer, shaking him encouragingly.

“Hey, there’s nothing there, baby… It’s getting dark and maybe you just saw a deer or whatever,” he said quietly, his voice low and soothing. It seemed to have the desired effect on Castiel, because he finally broke free from his stupor. He sighed and melted into Dean’s arm, leaning trustfully against him while Dean rubbed his cool upper arm repeatedly.

“Come, it’s getting cold. I don’t want you to get sick,” he said caringly. He smiled when he felt a soft, innocent kiss pressed against his throat. Then Castiel moved and hid his face in Dean’s clothed, broad chest trustingly, wrapped his arms around Dean’s middle, and embraced him intimately. Automatically, Dean engulfed Cas in a hug, too, his hands stroking up and down his naked back. For a moment, he just enjoyed holding him like that, feeling him breathe warmly against his chest. However, Dean kept looking out into the fields again, scanning the area for one last time – just to be sure.

…

The next day, everything seemed to have gone back to normal. At breakfast, Castiel was cheeky and kept stealing bits of Dean’s pancakes from his plate, but he made up for it with sweet kisses, that tastes of vanilla and maple syrup. Just when things started to get heated and when Dean fumbled with Castiel’s tie and the buttons of his shirt, Cas shooed Dean’s hands away while grinning into their kisses.

“Stop it,” he said in between kisses. “You know I have to go.”

With a heavy heart, Dean sighed and let go of Castiel’s mouth. Sheepishly he fixed his tie and patted down his chest, then he looked down into Cas’ eyes with a frisky grin. Castiel rolled his eyes and shoved Dean’s chest playfully.

“God, will you ever get tired of me?” he complained in jest, and it made Dean chuckle.

“Never.”

He leaned in and kissed Castiel’s cheek lovingly, felt how Cas leaned into his kiss with an appreciative hum. For a moment, they stood in each other’s personal space, just leaning against one another and enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of belonging. Then Castiel slapped Dean’s ass hard, a smacking noise filled the kitchen. Castiel laughed and made a beeline for the door, while Dean rubbed his butt cheek with a silly pout.

“You’re the worst, Winchester! Love you!” Castiel called, then he left the house for work.

And even though Castiel seemed to have calmed down as if yesterday hadn’t happened at all, Dean couldn’t get it out of his head: He remembered the shock in Castiel’s blue eyes vividly, how intimidated he had looked just at the mere thought of Aaron so close to him again. As far as Dean knew, Castiel hadn’t heard from Aaron in all these years – so why would he show up now? It didn’t make sense. Nevertheless, Dean decided to double-check it. At work, he ran the police’s database for any Aarons living in Sioux Falls – he had never gotten to know his last name, it had never seemed important to know or to ask Castiel about it – so he got, of course, hundreds of results. Apparently, a lot of “Aarons” lived in Sioux Falls. But when he narrowed the search down to the district he remembered where Aaron had his house, the results lessened noticeably. Then he spotted the street he and Castiel had paid a visit to all these years ago, and he suddenly remembered that this was the street where Aaron lived. Dean bit on his bottom lip pensively as he realized that Aaron was indeed still living in Sioux Falls, in the same house. He had a queasy feeling about it. That meant that there was the slightest possibility Cas wasn’t seeing ghosts – the slightest possibility that Aaron was still a threat to his partner.

…

Later in the afternoon, Jess and Sam came by for a visit with little Mary in tow. Mary had Jessica’s blonde curls and Sam’s brown eyes, just with a speck of Dean’s green glowing in them. Sam and Jess had dressed her in a little blue dress dotted with white flowers, and she was wearing pigtails with pink ribbons. Her tiny white teeth were pearly-white whenever she grinned, and her squeaky thin voice was the sweetest thing Dean had ever heard. Little Mary was truly the most heartwarming thing he had ever encountered, and whenever he saw her, he was just about to collapse into a puddle of pure delight. At work, he could be the tough guy, who hunted gangsters and disarmed knife fighters expertly – but when it came to his niece (or Cas), he was the gentlest version of himself. He just had to look into Mary’s little face, where he easily detected an infinity of cheekiness and boldness, and he knew the two of them were kindred spirits.

Currently, Dean was sitting in the sandbox with Mary – the sandbox he had built in their garden especially for his niece – while Sam, Jess, and Cas were sitting nearby at the garden table, chatting while feasting on Jessica’s self-made cake and Dean’s strong coffee (Castiel still liked strong coffee, and ever since Jess and Sam were parents, they loved caffeine a little too well). Dean and Mary were very busy putting sand into colorful molds with their hands to make plenty of sand cake. On the wooden border of the sandbox, already a dozen of them were ready. If this continued, they would have to open up a shop and sell them. Dean looked over to the other adults, wondering if they were potential buyers.

Little Mary must have thought the same thing – suddenly, she ran off with a sand-filled mold in her tiny hands, towards the adults sitting at the table. With a beaming smile, Jessica gladly accepted the wet sand cake Mary put into the bowl of her palms, indifferent to all the sand falling into her lap and on the ground. Mary didn’t seem to care or notice, because she ran off again, formed another sand cake with excitement, then she ran away again giggling and repeated the same thing with Sam. By now, they were all chuckling and laughing about her childish sweetness. Dean rejoiced when Mary bestowed Castiel with a sand cake as well, for it was a sight to behold that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside: Cas bowed his torso down somewhat, brought his face on eye level with Mary, and thanked her politely as she placed the sand into his hands with care. She looked up into his face with a toothy grin, which was insomuch contagious that Cas gave her a big smile, radiant with joy, in return.

“It’s good, uncle Cas, eat it!” Mary encouraged, making the adults laugh amused. Cas sighed and gave Dean a helpless look over the distance. Dean could barely stifle a laugh. Then Cas brought his hands to his mouth and acted as if he was tasting Mary’s bakery product. Mary seemed satisfied when Castiel hummed appreciatively and nodded.

A while later, Sam was playing tag with Mary in the garden – Sam laughed breathlessly, while his little whirlwind was screeching with pleasure as she ran away from. Jess had insisted on doing the wash-up, so now Castiel and Dean had a few peaceful moments in seclusion to themselves. Dean was still sitting in the sandbox, toying with the fine sand absentmindedly, when Castiel sauntered towards him. They smiled tentatively at one another when Castiel took a seat right next to him. Dean sensed his body warmth instantly, inhaled Cas’ wonderful scent, and it affected him deeply, made him speechless with profound bliss. He smiled secretly when he let his head drop down on Cas’ shoulder trustfully, sighed happily when Castiel put an arm around his back and pulled him closer against his side. For a moment, they just sat there, side by side, watched Sam and Mary playing carefree in their garden. Dean listened to his inner voice, thinking he was quite happy in the here and now. Moments like this, with his family, with Cas, they seemed so precious, and he held them dear – after all the pains he had experienced in his life, he knew how to treasure the finer things in life better. He felt Castiel breathe against his temple, shivered with rapture, when Cas left a coy kiss in his hair, right above his ear. For a second, Dean thought he would have loved nothing more at this moment than to lie down in bed with Cas and fall asleep in his tight embrace…

“You’re really good with kids, do you know that?” Cas suddenly said, his voice low and utterly relaxed. Dean smiled wistfully as memories of his childhood returned – how often he had taken care of Sammy, how he had more or less adopted the maternal and paternal role due to John’s incompetence… yeah, he knew he was good with kids. There had been a time in his life when he had to be, when there hadn’t been a choice about it.

“Thanks, you’re not half bad yourself,“ he said kindly. Another thought crossed his mind, made him melancholic. By now, he was 34 years old, and even though he didn’t have the same issue as women with a biological clock ticking, he sometimes thought about starting a family of his own, felt time running away.

“You know, someday I wanna have a family of my own, too,“ he said carefully, testing the water. He and Cas had never openly discussed the matter, and since the two of them were guys, their options to become parents were rather limited. After all, they didn’t live in a fantasy world where one of them could impregnate the other. Dean thought he could practically feel the tension arising in Castiel’s body, how his grip around Dean’s back became a bit harder. The few seconds of elapsing silence unsettled Dean somewhat, made him hope he hadn’t crossed an invisible line. Apparently, this was a touchy subject for Cas, and Dean hadn’t been aware of it until now.

“I don’t know, Dean, I’m not sure I’m father material. I mean, you know me and my history, I’ve never had a big family to start with, and after my mother died, well… I’m not sure I know enough about families to start one, too.”

Dean frowned and uplifted his head again, searched for Castiel’s eyes. Their eyes met, and Dean was startled by the obvious anguish his thoughts had brought to his partner’s eyes, they were clouded with a deep-reaching pain. Immediately, Dean felt sorry, leaned in and kissed Castiel chastely, lightly. He sensed the subtlest smile coming to his partner’s mouth as their lips brushed together sweetly. Dean kissed him once more, firmer, as if it was an unspoken affirmation of his love for Cas, no matter what.

“Cas,” he rasped gently, “there’s no blueprint on how to have a family and how to make it work. Same goes for relationships, I think. As long as you give love and do your best, again and again, I think that’s enough.”

Castiel contemplated him, his smile seemed sad, his mien was glum. With tenderness, he stroked Dean’s back slowly, obviously trying to find the words for what he was feeling. Dean watched him attentively, wondered what was bothering Castiel that much. Then Castiel let his head hang down, unable to look at Dean; the next time he spoke, his voice sounded choked with emotion, a mixture of fear and pain.

“I thought about it, too, Dean, having a family of my own. And I know you want this… I kind of want it, too, but I’m afraid to screw everything up. And what if I’m never ready? What if I’m not enough for you? I don’t wanna hold you back from starting a family. I know there are enough women out there hot for you, you just have to snap your finger and-“

Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing, all the darkness Castiel had been harboring finally seeing the light of day. Cas had lost his marbles, that much was certain. Before he could continue talking more nonsense, Dean grabbed his face with both hands and made him look at him. Wide-eyed Castiel stared at him, his mouth agape, blatant worry and anguish lingering in his deep blue eyes. Tears of despair were welling there – just to see him in so much pain formed a big, aching lump in Dean’s throat, making it hard to breathe. He could hardly stand seeing Cas this way. Didn’t he understand how much Dean loved him? That he would do anything for him? That he didn’t want anyone else?

“Cas, what the hell are you talking about?” Dean said with a strained voice, speaking against the strangling pain. His fingers wandered into Castiel’s raven black, smooth hair, twisted some strands mindlessly.

“ _I love you_ , Cas. You’re all I ever need. And if you’re never ready for a family, then screw it. If it’s one thing or the other, I know what I’ll pick, and I’ll always choose you, Cas. I thought you already knew that.”

Castiel leaned his forehead against Dean’s then, and they shared moist, warm breaths for a few seconds. Dean closed his lids while he enjoyed Cas’ nearness, the intimacy of the moment. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, his blood was boiling with a passionate love for Cas. Blindly Castiel kissed him then, his kisses ardent and hard, making Dean’s head swim. He responded eagerly, their mouths sliding together perfectly, slowly. A vortex of nearly aching yearning for Cas formed in Dean’s stomach, churned him up. The salty taste of tears was suddenly on his tongue. Surprised, he let go of Cas, beheld the gorgeous wreck in front of him: Tears of joy were running down Castiel’s cheeks, his mouth was kiss-wet, his eyes gleaming, his hair ruffled. Dean smiled lovingly at him and used both his thumbs to wipe away the rivulets of hot tears on his partner’s cheek, stupidly pleased when Cas moved his head towards Dean’s hands, towards his gentle caresses.

“Uncle Cas, why are you crying?”

Mary’s squeaky voice resounded at once, startled them. Out of nowhere, she had appeared and beheld them with a curious look on her tiny face. Cas laughed abashed and wiped the remnants of tears from his face with a shaky hand.

“I’m crying because I’m so happy,” Cas explained, gave her a quick look, then he contemplated Dean again.

“Your uncle Dean makes me very happy.”

Dean thought the same thing about Cas, but he was too moved by his sweetness, couldn’t form a single word. So he just tried to convey the depths of his heart with another slow kiss, losing track of time and everything around him while their lips brushed together sensually.

“Get a room!” Sam then yelled suddenly, making them break apart and chuckle.

…

In the following days, it seemed either Dean and Castiel had forgotten about the shadow of Aaron lurking around, or they didn’t have the heart to mention anything to their other half. If Dean kept double-checking the locks before he went to bed, or if he scanned their gardens in the evenings tensely, Castiel might have noticed, but he didn’t say anything about it. It seemed strange to Dean that Castiel had seen Aaron out of the blue, and that nothing was happening then. Maybe it had been nothing but stress, maybe it had been just that: nothing. Still, the mere idea of Aaron bothering Castiel again, Dean couldn’t forget about it. He was anxious that a bomb might drop any day now, his daily life was somewhat tainted by it. Castiel picked up on Dean’s ruminative, sorrowful mood, of course, and was extra sweet to him, made sure to take care of Dean and show him even more tenderness and affection. He didn’t force Dean to open up, just patiently waited for him to come around and talk to Cas whenever he was ready. It made Dean fall in love with him all over again, made him lay all his emotions into their deep, slow kisses.

The peace was, however, indeed disturbed, on another Thursday afternoon. Dean had his lunch break and was joking around with Charlie in their police car. They were chattering blithely, enjoying their sandwiches and each other’s amicable company. Then suddenly, Dean’s phone rang. He was somewhat suspicious when he saw the caller on his display: It was Cas. Usually, Castiel never called him at that time of the day; they were both busy with their jobs and their times for lunch deviated. Dean picked up, motioning for Charlie to be quiet.

“Hey, Cas, what’s up?” he said friendly, but his smile instantly vanished from his mouth when he heard his partner. Castiel’s breath uneven, trembling. He sounded as if he was crying, as if he was about to lose his mind. Dean frowned, gave Charlie a sign, and exited the car to have some privacy.

“Cas, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice oozing with all the worry he felt for him. He heard him sigh, how he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“Dean, I saw him again. He’s following me.”

 _Oh shit._ His gut feeling had been right after all. Dean already knew who Castiel was talking about, but he had to make sure he had gotten it right.

“Who, _Aaron?_ ”

The following words tumbled out of Castiel’s mouth as his nerves went haywire. He was on the verge of hyperventilating as he tripped over his words, crying flustered. Just listening to him in this state left a sharp twinge in Dean’s heart, made him wish he was right there with Cas.

“Yes, _Aaron._ I’m downtown, thought I’d run some errands on my break. I keep seeing him – he’s always just standing there, staring at me… and now… I’m in the next best coffee shop I could find to get away from him. The people here must think I’m insane because I’m crying and shaking while I’m trying to drink my coffee,” he laughed embarrassed, through his tears. Dean smiled wistfully, thinking he loved Castiel so damn much, how, even at a moment like this, he could joke about it. At the same time, Dean’s heart was palpitating, somersaulting with gruesome fear for him. If Aaron, that sonofabitch, was really there, he would beat the hell out of him.

“Tell me where you are. I’ll pick you up, and we both call in sick for the rest of the day.”

“Dean, I _can’t_ , I’ve got another three hearings this afternoon,” Cas objected, making Dean chuckle and roll his eyes. Damn this stupid man he loved.

“Cas, don’t be an idiot. You’re in no condition to work, and I don’t wanna leave you alone at home. Not when you’re in this state. Lemme pick you up.”

Castiel contemplated it for a second, then he told Dean the location where he was.

“Okay, buddy, hang in there. I’ll be right there,” Dean comforted him. They hung up and Dean joined Charlie in the car again; she regarded him wide-eyed, immediately realized the shift of his mood, that something was going on. Because they were not only colleagues but good friends, Dean told her what had happened and that he had to play hooky for the rest of the day. Charlie just gave him a lopsided grin and told him he should really take care of his migraine better, then she winked at him. As an exemption, Charlie was behind the wheel today, so she quickly drove Dean to the police station, where the Impala was waiting for him. It was just a short trip, a few blocks away. Dean thanked her, jogged to the Impala, and started the engine impatiently, his every thought bent on Castiel and how he was doing.

He parked in front of the coffee shop, his eyes scanning the area suspiciously for anyone looking like Aaron. He frowned when he realized the street in front of the coffee shop was practically dead, absolutely devoid of any passersby. Maybe Aaron had run off already, but that didn’t make any sense if he was actually following Castiel and waiting for him to come out of the coffee shop. A strange presentiment suddenly came to Dean’s mind, nearly made him nauseous with unease: _What if none of this was really happening?_ What if Aaron wasn’t here following Castiel? What if Castiel was just losing his mind, somehow reliving a trauma from the past? After all, there were no facts that validated Castiel’s experience. It had been _years_ since the last time he had seen Aaron. Why would he bother them now? Also, only Castiel had ever seen Aaron recently – even though Dean had checked their house and garden multiple times – _he_ had never seen Aaron. Dean didn’t know what to think, only that there was a heavy stone in his stomach, that he was deeply troubled and worried about Cas either way.

Shaking his head as if this could make these thoughts disappear, he got out of the parked Impala and wrote Castiel a message to let him know he was here. A few moments later, a haggard-looking Castiel walked out of the coffee shop. He was awfully pale, seemed jittery and confused. Their eyes met, and Dean’s heart melted right there on the spot. Castiel looked as if he had been through hell. Automatically, Dean opened his arms widely, and approached Cas, wrapped him up in a bone-breaking hug. Their torsos collided intimately; their body warmth mingled. Castiel buried his face in the soft cotton of Dean’s uniform, slung his arms around his middle and held him tighter. Dean could feel him vibrate in his arms, how he was trembling from head to toe. Cas clung to him as if the world was ending, as if he was about to collapse any second now, his fingernails delving into Dean’s back desperately. A hurricane of emotions overwhelmed Dean as he held his partner, stroked his back soothingly – he was angry at Aaron for all of this, whether he was here or not. He was to blame for this mess Castiel was. Apart from that, Dean was simply worried about Cas, wondered if he was going to be alright.

“Come, I’ll take you home,” he said quietly into Cas’ ear, then left a sweet kiss right above his temple. Castiel just hummed and nodded against his shoulder. Dean hand-brushed through Castiel’s smooth hair gently, fondled the back of his head with small circles of his fingers, as he knew this caress always calmed Castiel down somewhat. With a sigh, Cas broke apart from him, looked up and forced himself to smile – but he couldn’t eliminate the sinister expression from his eyes, nor could he hide how brittle his smile was.

The ride back to their house was painfully, uncomfortably, taciturn. Dean had turned on the radio, but neither of them was paying attention to it or really listening, each of them lost in thought. When he didn’t have to switch gears, Dean’s hand blindly and often wandered to Castiel’s or came to rest on his thigh. He hoped Castiel understood his wordless gestures of comfort, that Dean was here for him if he needed him to. He risked a quick side glance at him while driving, about to go insane, he was so concerned about him. Cas looked utterly hopeless as he sat there with a sunken posture, staring motionlessly out of the window as if he was paralyzed with fear.

…

At home, Castiel had made a beeline for their bedroom, and Dean had followed him upstairs. He watched Castiel taking off his tie, socks, and shoes, then how he lay down in bed with his dress shirt and suit pants only. He gave Dean a meaningful look, seemed completely exhausted.

“I think I’m gonna sleep a bit,” he said feebly, making Dean smile softly at him. He nodded, then walked over to the windows, where he slowly lowered the shutters, knowing Castiel liked to sleep in semi-darkness. It felt as if he was approaching a wounded wild animal when he sat down next to him on the bed, seeing his silhouette in the half-light. His hands were resting on his chest idly, and Dean grabbed one, intertwined their fingers tenderly. When he leaned down to press a loving kiss against Castiel’s cheek, he was surprised about the wetness, the taste of hot tears. At that, Castiel shied away from him, skid a bit sideward, as if he was embarrassed or couldn’t stand Dean’s display of affection. Dean swallowed against the aching big lump in his throat, afraid Castiel was pushing him away.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas croaked, his voice laced with pain, “you must think I’m being dramatic. I didn’t wanna drag you into my chaos, but here we are…”

Dean shook his head, squeezed Castiel’s hand lightly. Despite his immense intellect, Cas was really stupid sometimes.

“What are you talking about, Cas? It’s not your fault. I’m just worried about you, that’s all… and of course, I’m there for you if you need me. Don’t ever think you’re a burden to me…”

He sighed satisfied when Castiel squeezed his hand in return. It was all the affirmation Dean needed. He leaned down again, into Cas’ personal space, brought his face closer to Castiel’s. In the twilight, his blue eyes were gleaming mystically, beautifully, as Cas regarded Dean silently.

“Get some sleep, baby,” Dean cooed, then he kissed Castiel firmly, their lips sliding together slowly.

…

In the early evening, Castiel awoke and walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. While he had been asleep, Dean had checked in on him several times, wanting to make sure Cas was okay and his sleep undisturbed. Because he was so upset and didn’t know what to do with himself, he had done all the household chores he could think of. There usually wasn’t a lot of chaos in their house, as they were both rather orderly guys, so Dean had only done some cleaning. He had mopped all the floors, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, had done all the laundry, which was currently spinning quietly in their dryer – and now he was cooking dinner. While bustling busily, the thought had crossed Dean’s mind that if he was working hard now, he and Castiel had more time to themselves later, especially now that the weekend was just around the corner.

He became aware of a sleep-drugged, rather crumpled looking Cas shuffling towards him, and smiled at him tentatively. He seemed calmer, better. Cas hugged him from behind and bedded his chin on Dean’s shoulder, peeked at the food bubbling in the pot.

“What are you cooking?” he mumbled into Dean’s shirt, causing him to laugh a little.

“It’s yellow curry with lentils and spinach, that recipe Jess gave us, that you like so much.”

Dean suddenly sensed Cas kissing his neck, his warm hands wandering slowly under his shirt. Goosebumps appeared everywhere on his skin, he hummed appreciatively when Cas’ fingers grabbed his hips forcefully.

“You’re the best,” Cas susurrated, kissing his neck again, his lips wandering down to Dean’s crook of the neck teasingly, leaving open-mouthed, hungry kisses there. Dean winced with a vehement spark of arousal, momentarily leaned his head back against Castiel’s trustfully. Damn it, Cas knew this was one of his weak spots.

“Behave,” he said breathlessly, “I’m not cooking dinner for nothing.”

Somehow, they managed to actually have dinner and sit down at their kitchen table like civilized human beings. Dean wasn’t really hungry, for the upheaval from this afternoon still sat heavily in his stomach. But he knew if he didn’t eat, Castiel would probably not eat as well, so he dug in as if everything was normal. Not only had Dean cooked one of Cas’ favorite dishes, he had also dug up one of his favorite tunes – the kitchen was filled with the serene, quiet sounds of classical piano music. Castiel smiled knowingly at Dean, a profound fire of devotion and love burning in his eyes as he beheld him. At last, he clothed his thoughts in words, beheld Dean suspiciously.

“Why are you so nice to me? Don’t think I didn’t notice you’re making an extra effort. We never listen to _Chopin_ at dinner. What’s going on?”

Dean scoffed and scratched his head, abashed Castiel could read him so well.

“I just thought… you know, after today, you could need something to cheer you up,” he said circumspectly. The next time their eyes met, Dean was surprised about the melancholy in Castiel’s features, his sad, lifeless smile.

“That’s very sweet of you, baby. But it won’t shoo the problem away. If Aaron keeps stalking me…”

“About that,” Dean said, harrumphed, suddenly nervous. How could he address what was on his mind without Castiel getting pissed at him and misunderstanding his good intentions? It seemed impossible.

“Are you really sure it was Aaron you saw? I mean, you might have mistaken somebody else for him.”

Cas perked up his ears, his body posture dangerously taut and attentive. He raised his eyebrows at Dean, disbelief in his look. Dean had a bad feeling, thought a storm was coming for him, that Castiel was going to explode any second now.

“Are you suggesting I’m making this up?” Cas asked, his voice choked with emotion, a fierceness in his face that made Dean congeal. He sighed unhappily. In for a penny, in for a pound. He had started this, so he could also finish it, it was too late to backpedal now. Helplessly he shrugged, tried to act nonchalantly.

“I’m just saying… it could be that your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you’ve been stressed lately, worked too hard, it happens that you start seeing things that aren’t there.”

Dean’s heart was hammering violently in his chest when Castiel suddenly got up, his chair screeching over the floor. He scowled at Dean darkly, his mood having turned sour. A mixture of anger, disbelief and betrayal was written all over his face, as if Dean had stabbed him in the back. It was hard to stand this look, it made Dean feel like a complete douchebag.

“I don’t have to listen to this. You don’t believe me? _Fine!_ ”

Completely astonished, Dean watched Cas walk over to the wardrobe, donning his jeans jacket and lacing his chucks hectically. _Oh no._ Realizing that Castiel was about to leave, he was so pissed at him, Dean got up, trying to reason with him. He didn’t want him to leave, didn’t wanna fight with him. In the entrance hall, he stood beside him, watched him getting ready to leave.

“Cas, you haven’t seen him _in years_! Why would he show up now? I don’t wanna fight, baby, I’m just trying to make sense of this,” he said, feeling lost, but Cas just shook his head angrily, didn’t even listen to him anymore. He gave Dean one last sour look, then he stormed out of the house and walked down the streets, out into the night. Dazed with horror, stunned with smarting agony, Dean gazed after him, watched how his figure became smaller and smaller.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awww come on, it will be fine, trust me hehehehe... yeah, a lot going on in this and the next chapter. 
> 
> Lemme know what you think please! <3


	20. Bonus chapter 1: Deus ex machina 2/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok lovely readers, here it is, the second part of bonus chapter 1. This monstrosity is nearly 15k (!) long and I lost count how many words I wrote within the last days - on one day, I wrote 5k. So, you see, I really tried to stick to my own set deadline and publish the chapter this week hahahaha hysteric laugther. Ok, so, a lot of things happening in the following chapter, I totally lost control, I was a slave to the muse kissing me... it's not as if I, as the writer of this, have any control over it?? 
> 
> Keep a look out for the deus ex machina in this chapter and let me know what you think it is ;-)  
> And remember, this may be a darker chapter, but everything will be fine, I promise! :)

**Bonus Chapter 1: Chapter 20 – Deus ex machina (2)**

Dean was beyond himself with worry and confusion. Restlessly, he kept pacing up the living room and kitchen, not knowing what to do with himself. He had been right, though, hadn’t he? His logical thinking had insisted that Castiel couldn’t have seen Aaron, that none of this was really happening. But why did he have this strange gut feeling that something was terribly wrong, despite every sensible reason telling him there was nothing to worry about? It just didn’t go away. What he knew for certain, however, was that Castiel was madly pissed at him, and after the initial shock of him fleeing the house had passed, Dean slowly started to understand why: Because he hadn’t believed Cas, despite what rationality suggested. Dean stopped dead in his track in the kitchen, stared out the window, while bit down on his bottom lip absentmindedly. He kept mulling over their argument, kept seeing Castiel’s frustrated, disappointed look. It tugged painfully at his heart to remember this facial expression of utter betrayal, how desperate Cas had seemed at Dean’s unmindful words.

Now, as Dean looked out of the window, he realized it was almost dark, that only an orange afterglow of sunset was lingering in the sky. Unease spread within him – where had Cas gone to? Would he even return tonight or would he sleep somewhere else? A sudden thought crossed Dean’s mind: What if Aaron was somewhere close by? And Cas was out there all alone! He didn’t even think twice, but tied his boots, put on his favorite jeans jacket, and stormed out of the house to search for Cas. Outside it was fresh and smelt spicy, the heat of the day lingered in the air. Dean looked around as he walked down the streets, no one was in sight. Inside his head, he was ranting and raving with himself, all worst possible scenarios unfolding in his fantasy like a never-ending nightmare. If something happened to Cas now because of him, he would never forgive himself. For a second, he stopped, overwhelmed with deep anxiety for his partner. He breathed through several times, tried to soothe his nerves. With a quivering hand, he wiped over his eyes.

Then, as if he had lost his mind, he started running, not even consciously aware where he was heading to. He kept running down all the streets in their neighborhood until at last, he came towards the farm track leading towards the fields and groves behind their house. He was all out of breath, sweating and distraught, when he finally spotted a figure ahead in the twilight. Regardless of the distance, he recognized the shape, instinctively knew it was Cas. Relief washed through Dean hotly, made him feel electrified with an incredible rush. Cas was okay, he was fine, he wasn’t hurt. He ran quicker and quicker, was too unsettled to call his name. Cas must have heard his swift footfalls, for he turned around when Dean was still a few meters away; he regarded Dean with a calm, contemplative face, didn’t seem surprised to see him here in the slightest. Dean stopped in front of him, panting labouredly while resting his hands on his knees; he looked up into Cas’ face and shrugged helplessly with a lopsided grin, incredibly delighted to see the subtlest of smiles gracing Cas’ sensual mouth.

“There you are,” Dean gasped, straightening himself. Cas gave him a half-amused, half-annoyed long look, as if Dean had lost his marbles completely.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and he sounded somewhat bothered by Dean’s presence. His rejection pinched sharply in Dean’s heart, he understood Castiel had wanted solitude after their fight. Gingerly, as if he was afraid he might upset Cas further, Dean placed a placid hand on Cas’ shoulder, gave it a light squeeze. He looked deeply into Cas’ gorgeous blue eyes, couldn’t resist bringing up his other hand and stroke along Cas’ stubbly cheek lovingly.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I should have believed you, no matter what.”

At that, Cas melted, and his strict mien crumbled. He looked utterly devastated, a twitchy smile came to his mouth as hot tears started welling in his eyes.

“You of all people, baby…,” Cas croaked, his voice failing him as the pain corded up his throat. Dean commiserated with him, frowned, as he beheld his partner and the damage he had caused. Deeply moved, he grabbed both of Cas’ shoulders, held his gaze.

“I promise you, Cas, we’ll deal with it. You’re not alone in this. And if Aaron ever bothers you again, so God help me.”

Now Cas scoffed amused, wiped a tear out of his eye with nervously trembling fingers.

“You’re kind of sexy when you utter threats of violence,” he said with a grin. Dean smiled at him, thought he couldn’t love him more than at this moment. It felt as if he could finally breathe again, be at peace, as he slung his arms around Cas and pulled him in for a tight hug. He rested his chin trustfully on Cas’ shoulder, breathed in the soapy scent of his air, and felt his heart at home. Cas’ fingers dug into his back almost painfully, he held Dean so ardently. Tenderly, Dean let his fingers card through Castiel’s hair again and again, rocked him slowly in their intimate embrace.

…

Hand in hand they strolled back to their house, their eyes fleeing to one another as they exchanged heartfelt smiles. And even though a catastrophe was hanging in the air, imminent and inescapable, Dean was happy that they were together in this, that they weren’t fighting anymore. He and Cas basically never fought, and when it happened, he hated every second of it. When they were inside, Cas directly went to their bedroom and made himself ready for the night. Dean followed him, thought he had a point.

Now that they were back at home, Cas seemed completely exhausted, all of his strength was spent. It were the little things that gave him away: How his posture seemed bent as if he was carrying the weight of the world, the dazed look in his eyes, how taciturn he always became when he was sleepy… They followed their evening routine, brushed their teeth, and changed into T-shirts and boxer shorts for the night. Soon they lay in bed side by side comfortably, the electric white light from the streetlamp shining in. Suddenly, Dean was wide awake, his protective instinct for Cas took over him. He didn’t feel like sleeping until Cas was asleep, wanted to make sure his partner was okay. He turned his head to him, only to realize Cas was watching him silently for his part, the faint light from outside shone mysteriously in his eyes. His ghostly smile touched Dean’s heart, made him move closer towards Cas. Dean outstretched his left arm, and Cas understood his invitation wordlessly, scooted over. In next to no time, he lay in Dean’s arm, his head pillowed on Dean’s chest, right above his thrumming, content heart. With his other hand, Dean stroked through Cas’ hair repeatedly, toyed with the smooth strands he couldn’t stop touching. He left one kiss after the other on Cas’ temple, held him closer, pressed to his side. Like this, the minutes passed, and soon, Castiel’s breathing became deeper, slower, until he had finally fallen asleep, in the safety of Dean’s arms.

…

In the middle of the night, Dean woke up with a start. Cas was trashing about in his sleep, writhing in the sheets in an agony unknown to Dean. Concerned he watched his partner battling with his nightmare, was only too familiar with them – during the years, especially when Aaron hadn’t been so long out of Cas’ life, Dean had often seen Cas experiencing a nightmare, but they had lessened with time and gotten easier to handle. This one tonight seemed bad. At once, Cas suddenly became wide awake, froze in his movements. His eyes found Dean’s, a startled, hunted expression within them. Cas seemed to have stopped breathing, his look haggard, as the waves of shock ebbed away. Then he sighed, breathed through deeply, brought his hands up to his face to hide it behind them. Dean would have done anything in the world to take the burden away from him, to ease the weight his heart carried from time to time. But he knew he could only do so much to soothe Cas… Carefully, he touched Cas’ clothed shoulder, drew insignificant patterns with his thumb slowly – a mute, small gesture that he was here, waiting, should Cas need him.

“Woke you up again, didn’t I?” Cas mumbled through his hands. Dean rolled his eyes and gave his shoulder a playful shove.

“Don’t be stupid, Cas. It’s not a big deal… are you okay?”

There was a contemplative pause, in which Cas seemed to estimate his well-being. He brought down his hands, gave Dean a loving, sweet smile in the night’s half-light, though the expression of his eyes was still somewhat rattled.

“Yeah, I’m okay… it’s okay.”

Dean raised his eyebrows skeptically at him, not sure if he was going to believe his partner. Cas noticed it and smirked, gave him a long, meaningful look.

“I’m okay. _Really_.”

He turned around to Dean so that he lay on his side, and Dean did the same, following his example. Dean tugged his forearm under his cheek, regarded his partner with interest. He was wide awake, felt as if he couldn’t fall asleep anytime soon, and from the way Cas’ eyes flickered restlessly, scanned his features attentively, he realized Cas was probably not tired as well. Without really thinking about it, Dean reached out his free hand, let it come to rest on Cas’ shoulder. It was meant as a comforting gesture, maybe, maybe just an innocent caress. But once he sensed the heat through Cas’ shirt, a deep-reaching hunger awoke within him and took over. He gently stroked Cas’ shoulder and upper arm repeatedly, his eyes resting on Cas’ all the while, studying his reactions. There was a knowing look in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Dean’s hand traveled down, over Castiel’s clothed pec, his stomach, gripped his hip with a sudden spike of determination. It made Cas suck in a shaky breath, his eyes closed for a nano-second. The smile faded from his mouth as Dean scooted over, brought their torsos and faces unbearably close. Sensuality beautified Cas’ face as their eyes locked, their hot exhales colliding. Dean’s head was swimming by now, his heart droning in his chest as he deeply looked into the eyes of the man he loved. His trembling, nervous breaths enticed Dean, made him come closer automatically. His fingers delved hard into the pliant flesh of Cas’ hip as he tilted his head and brought their lips together in a contemplative, motionless kiss. There was the slightest idea of pressure he yielded, how he moved his lips against Cas’, feeling him become lax as he returned the kiss. His seductive, smooth lips created pins and needles in Dean’s stomach, made his heart flutter excitedly. They kissed slowly, open-mouthed, while their hands developed a life of their own: Filled up with aching desire, Dean let his hand move under Cas’ soft shirt, sensed the scorching hot velvety skin of his body; Cas’ hand was in his hair, crawled to the back of his head and pulled him closer. Then Cas brought up his leg and placed it over Dean’s hip, their pelvises suddenly intimately squeezed together, their bellies touching.

Dean stopped kissing him, breathless, confused with a burning passion, and regarded Cas beside him. His partner’s lids were drooping with lust, a wild, untamed notion gleamed brightly in his eyes. The silvery-white moonlight shone inside their bedroom, made Cas look like an unearthly gorgeous creature. The devotion for him overwhelmed Dean, made him feel all brittle and humble with the joy and love he was feeling for Cas. There were times when they had sex when they made jokes or bickered and laughed, high on their rapture and physical cravings – and there were times like tonight when Dean couldn’t express the words he harbored in his heart, when it seemed as if there was more meaning to everything – more than Dean would ever understand.

With a certainty that came with years of experience, Dean suavely pushed Cas down into the mattress, slipped into the space between his spread legs. He sat down on his legs, watched with sweet delight how Cas’ chest was heaving, he was already so aroused. Dean’s hands stroked up his shirt to reveal Cas’ taut stomach; he exposed his well-defined pecs, his showing ribs, his sharp hipbones, his lightly tanned skin… his mouth was watering at the sight, made him grow hard. Cas sat up a little and quickly pulled the shirt over his head, threw it away. He gave Dean a pleading look, motioned with one hand for him to do the same. Gladly he followed the demand, took off his shirt as well, then he confidently stripped off his boxer shorts, felt the cool night air against his naked body – in the next second, he took a hold of the elastic waist of Cas’ boxer shorts, took them off slowly, completely undressed him, his eyes feasting on him. Dean bit on his bottom lip, torn in two with the lust rising inside of him, as his eyes fell on Cas’ erection, already big and hard for him.

He leaned down, braced himself on his hands, and hovered right above Castiel, their faces only inches apart. A gentle smile now appeared on Cas’ kiss-wet lips; with both hands, he framed Dean’s face, tugged at him so that they could kiss again and again. He let his tongue glide into Dean’s mouth, kissed him greedily as their tongues slid together lewdly. A soft moan escaped Cas, created goosebumps everywhere on Dean’s skin. He broke free from his kisses, his mouth finding the sensitive spot in the crook of Cas’ neck – he sucked at the delicate skin, bit into it playfully, licked his way down to Cas’ protruding collarbone. Cas’ hands ghosted over his bare shoulders, touched the back of his head, got lost in his short hair. There was a fondness lingering in his caresses, which moved Dean deeply – he read the signals Cas gave him, that he seemed as bereft of speech as Dean was tonight, overcome with the intensity of being together with the other man.

Almost leisurely, Dean took his sweet time to wreck Cas. His hands stroked his lean sides, his thumb drew small circles into the skin over his sharp hipbones. With his mouth, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses on his whole torso. He moved down, kissed Cas’ abdomen, sensed the warm erection pressing against his chest. Cas winced with arousal when Dean’s fingers lightly touched the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, stroking up. At last, Dean wrapped Cas’ impressive dick in one hand, gave it a mild squeeze to test the water; it made Cas moan again, this time he sounded unrestrained, too far gone to hold on to his inhibitions. Dean tilted his head, enclosed the velvety tip of his dick with his mouth, his tongue licking the salty bead of pre-cum away. Cas groaned, sounded wonderfully tortured. Dean could feel him become taut, how he constricted all his muscles.

He raised his eyes to Cas, struck with delight at the erotic sight given: Cas regarded him with fiery eyes, a feverish look resting in them – a frown of wonderful torture was on his forehead, he bit on his bottom lip, barely stifling the moans escaping him. Then Dean let his mouth gobble him greedily, he took Cas’ dick inside his mouth deeper and deeper, until he could feel the head touching the back of his throat. Cas’ lids closed at that, he sobbed with pleasure, as Dean started blowing him in earnest. Dean had done this a million times before, but he was always awed how big Cas was, and he had to remind himself often to breathe through his nose – his mouth was completely filled, Cas’ girth forcing Dean to open his mouth wide. But having Cas lolling in the sheets, his fingernails desperately grabbing Dean’s head, it was definitely worth it. Dean loved it when Cas took over, when he used the subtlest force to steer Dean’s head with his hands however he wanted, to make him go slower or faster, as Dean deep-throated him, letting Cas fuck his mouth.

His hands couldn’t stop touching Cas, stroked his thighs, his stomach, his chest fondly, while he sucked him in earnest. He felt Cas’ abdomen convulse, heard his moans becoming more breathless, shaky. A ravenous appetite grew wildly in Dean’s heart, made him greedy for more. He let go of Cas, straightened himself so that he could quickly fetch the bottle of lube from the nightstand. The bottle cap clicked quietly when he opened it, sitting between Cas’ spread thighs. He poured some of the liquid generously into his hand, his eyes feasting on the aroused spectacle in front of him: Castiel’s chest was glistening in the moonlight with a slight layer of sweat; his breaths were coming in staccato, he hummed darkly, bit on his bottom lip as he watched Dean’s actions. His hair was ruffled, spread over the white pillow, gave him a rakish look. Dean smiled wistfully at him, feeling himself harden even more when he took in the hauntingly beautiful man presented to him. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, ignored his heart racing with lightning speed, as he moved down again. Experimentally, he licked the length of Cas’ erection, felt him twitch against his tongue, heard him moan in pleasure as Dean’s lips glided along his dick. Dean’s lubed fingers found their way to his entrance, he shoved two inside to the hilt resolutely, making Castiel tremble and lustfully cry out. Once more, Dean engulfed him with his mouth, sucked him slowly, while his fingers fucked in and out of him, never tiring of the glorious heat inside of him. At the thought of feeling said heat around his dick, Dean moaned, had to touch himself to prevent himself from coming. He didn’t know how many minutes had passed, but by the time he had three fingers shoved into Cas, he was all out of breath, panting, his carnal desire nearly overpowering him.

Cas’ hand suddenly moved his hand from the back of Dean’s head to his shoulder, squeezed it with a gentle touch. It made Dean stop his caresses, made him look up quickly. Castiel bestowed him with a tender smile, looked completely disheveled – a lust-drunk expression dwelt in his eyes, he panted labouredly. His erection was pointing upwards, he was so hard and big.

“Please, baby, I wanna feel you,” Cas rasped, making Dean understand how far gone he was, that he couldn’t take much more if Dean continued with his seduction. He nodded, inhaled a trembling breath. It was always an exhilarating feeling, nerve-wracking, the few minutes filled with pleasant anticipation until their bodies melted together. Dean crawled up to Cas’, lay down beside him and let him kiss him stupid, let Cas turn him on his back while they kissed open-mouthed, their tongues sliding together lewdly. He swallowed nervously when Cas sat down in his lap. He regarded him in the moonlight, thought how admirable he looked, how sexy with Dean’s hard-on pressed between his thighs. Determinately, Cas reached for the bottle of lube, spread it over Dean’s erection with a tight fist, long strokes. It made Dean cant his hips, move towards this knowing hand. His own tortured moans resounded in his ears, he became lax and taut with lust, winced when he felt the lube warm up. The friction of Cas’ hand was perfect, turned his insides to jelly, made his blood burn with aching need. Mesmerized, he watched Castiel sit up a little, sensuality veiling his features. He looked like an angel to Dean, as his jaw dropped, his mouth slightly agape, as he took Dean inside slowly. A frown of bittersweet pain marred the sensuality as he took Dean deeper and deeper inside, feeling him filling him up. Dean’s abdomen was convulsing, moving on its own, as he couldn’t stop pressing into Cas, addicted to his incredibly tight heat. However, he managed to grasp Castiel’s hips with a firm grip, made him stop.

“Slowly, baby,” he breathed heavily, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Cas beheld him with drooping lids, a lopsided subtle smile on his mouth. Then he threw his head back, his hands stroking along Dean’s abdomen restlessly.

“God, you feel so good,” he moaned and moved his ass lower again, taking more of Dean inside. “I’m always impatient, I forget how big you are.”

Dean smiled at that, but the smile slipped from his mouth as he was overcome when Cas took him completely inside. For a moment, they stilled, trying to catch their breaths. Their eyes met. Dean felt himself pulsating inside of Cas, watched Cas face relax, as nothing but lust flowed through them. Cas reached out his hand, and it found Dean’s, their fingers intertwining intimately, an unspoken confession of their love for the other. Then Cas started moving again, rocked his hips, let Dean glide in and out of him sensually. It was like a fever dream to Dean. Heat throbbed through his veins, made him light-headed. He felt as if he was chasing his breaths, as if his heart was about to explode. Castiel was warm and lithe and oh so tight, squeezed him, made him crave for more and more and more… His blood was droning in his ears. With the hand Castiel wasn’t holding, Dean slowly stroked along Castiel’s pecs, his stomach, down towards his dick. He wrapped his hand around it, starting stroking Castiel lightly, just enough to bring him closer to the edge. Cas eyes swiftly darted to his, a hunted, overpowered look lingering in his dilated pupils. Dean knew that look, had seen it countless times before. Cas was close. His hips moved slower now but with more force, took their time to let Dean glide in and out torturously slow, making both of them moan.

It hit Dean like an electric shock as he came hard, incredible heat washing through him – he sensed Castiel cramping, holding perfectly still, as they came together. He squeezed Dean’s hand vehemently, threw his head back, as he spilled his cum over Dean’s abdomen. They were riding on their highs, blissed-out smiles on their faces, as the afterglows of their orgasms slowly faded away. Cas flopped down on Dean’s chest unceremoniously, completely out of breath, none of them caring about all the fluids mingling. Dean was still buried inside of him, enjoyed the heat of Cas, the intimacy of the moment. He left a kiss against Cas’ temple, stroked along his back, sensed his sweat cooling off. He exhaled against the all-consuming vulnerability in his chest, realizing how much he loved Cas, how it shook him to the deepest core of his being. And finally, he found the only words with meaning for nights like these, when everything became nearly too much to handle, it was so good.

“I love you, Cas.”

He felt the smile of his partner against his throat, it made him blissfully happy.

“Love you, too.”

…

A few days later, Cas was in the garden, doing some climb-ups on the iron bar they had installed there a while ago. He was shirtless, displaying his sweaty, muscled torso and his strong upper arms. Dean's mouth was watering at the given sight. He watched a drop of sweat running along Castiel's temple, and he swallowed thickly. Damn. For a second, he almost forgot what he had come outside for. Castiel was really distracting… and the strained moans and grunts escaping his mouth every now and then were just pure sin. Cas finally noticed Dean and gave him a quick side glance while continuing his climb-ups.

"Hey, what's up?"

Dean broke free from his paralysis at last.

"We gotta prepare the house, baby. They uttered a tornado warning for tomorrow."

Castiel let go of the iron bar and flopped down to the ground. He regarded Dean with an unhappy frown, grimacing at the prospect of a tornado possibly coming their way.

"Ah, shit."

They got to work right away. From the tool shed, they got out all kinds of equipment, but mostly wooden walls to cover all windows with. They were one of the things they had bought in plenty when they had decided for this house in South Dakota. Though most of the tornadoes here were rather harmless, in an average year, there could still be up to forty tornadoes - and some of them could really get nasty. Better safe than sorry.

They started with the kitchen window. Dean stood on a ladder, while Castiel held the wooden wall steady, and Dean hammered countless nails into the frame on top of the wooden wall. They made double sure to keep it in place with heavy sandbags leaned against it. Like this they continued with all windows - though Castiel had to take Dean's place on the ladder when it came to the upper tier: Dean was afraid of heights. He could only manage to somehow hold the wooden walls from the inside, while Cas finished the job outside, uncaring about the height.

"You know, I almost forgot how sexy you look with a hammer in your hand," Cas loudly commented from the other side of the darkened window. He hammered here and there. Dean was grinning from ear to ear.

"What do you mean - _you almost forgot_? Do you have gotten used to me already huh?"

"No, stupid. I just wanted to give you a compliment that you look _especially_ sexy when you're doing handiwork."

Dean nodded to himself with an appreciative smile on his lips.

"Well, and you look all sorts of hot when you're doing climb-ups. Gives a guy some steaming ideas, you know…"

There was a brief silence, then some more hammering. Castiel paused again.

"Stop flirting, Dean. Or I'm coming inside to get you."

Dean laughed, thinking he actually wouldn't mind a distraction right now.

…

Once everything was prepared, it was terribly dark within the house, since all the windows were boarded up. It felt strangely confining to be in the house when you couldn’t look outside. Castiel had noticed Dean’s unease about it – to soothe him, he lit many candles in their living room, brought out Dean’s favorite Western, and fetched two cool bottles of beer. Dean watched him, how he flopped down on their comfortable couch and patted the empty space next to him invitingly. Their eyes met, and Castiel was grinning at him sheepishly – Dean felt his heart flutter, remembered again how much he loved this man.

His discomfort slowly passed when he lay down next to Castiel, when the other wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulder. He snuggled up to his partner, enjoyed the physical intimacy, as they started watching the movie, sipping their beers occasionally. After a while, they realized none of them could really concentrate on the movie, so they started talking blithely, about this and that. To see the candlelight refract beautifully in Castiel’s eyes was invigorating to Dean, produced a heartfelt smile on his mouth. Their empty beer bottles were already resting on the coffee table. Dean had an arm slung around Castiel’s middle, a leg pressed between Castiel’s thighs, basically clinging to him, but he didn’t care. It felt so good to be close to Cas, to have his body warmth engulf him like a comforting blanket. Castiel stroked his back and upper arm absentmindedly, tenderly. He pressed a kiss into Dean’s hair, held him tighter, momentarily silent. Dean’s heart skipped a beat. A burning desire grew within him, made him long for Cas ardently.

Suddenly, Castiel’s dark voice resounded. Dean could hear the vibrations of his baritone rumbling through the chest his cheek was currently pillowed on, and he smiled secretly to himself.

"You know, I could die tomorrow, and I wouldn't care, I'm so happy tonight. Let that tornado get me, I don’t care."

Dean frowned, wondering about Castiel’s strange train of thought.

"Don't say that, Cas. It's not funny,” he protested. He didn’t like conversations about death or tragedies. In his line of work, he had seen enough of those. Without seeing it, he heard Castiel’s soft smile as he exhaled through his nose.

"Who says I'm joking? I mean it, Dean. The past years with you have been the happiest of my life. I'm just so glad to have met you…"

Deeply touched, Dean looked up, sat up a little. With his thumb and forefinger, he touched Castiel’s jaw, turned his head, so that their eyes could meet. A profound vulnerability lingered in Castiel’s look, but with it came an ungraspable intensity of joy, which choked Dean with emotion. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, his delight so pure and sweet, it was bordering on pain. The next time he spoke, his voice was laced with the love he felt for Cas, raspy and low. He moved closer, their faces almost touching, their hot breaths colliding, trembling treacherously as they revealed how aroused they already were.

"Then how about we won't die and just enjoy each other's company for more years?"

Cas smiled amused, his eyes glistening with a treacherous wetness. His hand found its way into Dean’s short hair, carded through it lovingly.

"Yes, I would like that."

"Come here, baby…"

They ended up kissing and making out on the couch, their legs entangled, Dean lying half on top of Cas. Forgotten was the tornado warning, forgotten the movie still playing in the background. All that mattered were Castiel’s kisses, his sensual moans, how he touched Dean with an urgency that spoke volumes. Dean’s heart skipped a beat when after a good while, Cas tugged at him, made him sit down in his lap. He loved the desire lingering in Castiel’s thoughtful touches, as he stroked along Dean’s thighs, his chest, how he undid Dean’s jeans with confident harsh movements. Dean’s mouth had gone dry with awful lust when Castiel undressed him with expertise, a fire burning brightly in his eyes, a beautiful blush on his cheeks. The next time they kissed, Dean blindly opened Cas’ jeans, pulled them down somewhat, so that he could feel the heat of his velvety erection pressing against him.

The next minutes passed by like a lucid dream, their naked bodies coming together, touching in the most intimate way. Dean’s head was swimming, he heard his own moans of pleasure when he knelt on his hands and knees, letting Cas fuck deeply into him. It seemed insane to him, how they never seemed to get enough of the other, their hunger insatiable. He sensed Cas inside of him, big and hard, spreading him perfectly, pressing against his sweet spot, making him wince and moan breathlessly. They came together, Castiel’s fingers delving into Dean’s hips almost painfully. Dean flopped down on his stomach, enjoyed the aftershocks of his orgasm making his limbs twitch, the heat licking through his innards electrically. Cas lay on top of him, kissed his neck fondly, his hands stroked along Dean’s sides. Woozily, Dean thought of Castiel’s words from before, their echo ghosting through his mind – he agreed, he could die tomorrow, and he would die as a happy man.

…

The next day, they left the house together, and for once, Cas let Dean drive him to work. He dropped him off at court and Cas bid him goodbye with a hard, loving kiss through the Impala’s rolled-down window.

“See you later, and remember: the hearing is at eleven!” Cas called and walked away, waved at Dean. Dean smiled at him, watched how he swiftly climbed the marble steps towards the court, thinking how madly he loved this man. Cas had been referring to the hearing later, for which Dean would bring and guard the defendant – it was a middle-aged man, who was put before court in a murder trial. Since it was the holiday season, the officers at court were somewhat understaffed, so currently, Dean acted as a holiday replacement. It was kind of boring, steering prisoners from one place to the other and guarding them all the time, but Dean’s glimmer of hope was when a hearing took place, in which Castiel was the judge. It meant he could see his partner at work, performing at his best, and it filled his heart with pride. It made his days less long, less dull, made him forget how direly he missed going on patrols with Charlie.

When Dean drove to the police station, he scanned the sky above him in all directions, up until the horizon. It was hard to imagine that a tornado warning had been issued for today – there were some dark rain clouds in the sky, sure, but there were also vast stretches of azure blue, the sun struggled through in between clouds. However, the wind was blowing fiercely, pushed the clouds swiftly along. Thoughtfully, Dean envisioned their house and the precautions they had taken, hoping it would suffice and keep their home intact. Maybe they would be lucky. Maybe the tornado wouldn’t even hit them or touch ground.

…

Later this forenoon, Dean entered Castiel’s courtroom, which he knew inside out by now – he was accompanied by a colleague, and in their midst, the cuffed defendant walked silently, a brooding mien on his features. It was common that none of them spoke in situations like this, so Dean wasn’t thinking anything of it. He was, however, slightly surprised, when they walked into the room, and when he saw how many people had come to attend to the hearing. The press hadn’t been allowed to come, but otherwise, the public had access to the hearing. With one hand on the prisoner’s shoulder, he gently steered the man to his dock, his eyes quickly wandered to Castiel. Their eyes met, and they exchanged gentle smiles. Dean winked at him, thinking Castiel looked awfully dapper today, his dark hair perfectly combed, the black judge’s robe bringing out the bright blue of his eyes. The trial started. All the while, Dean had to stand next to the prisoner, keeping tabs on him.

Suddenly, the side door to his left opened, the one close to the podium, where Castiel sat. Dean saw a black shadow rushing into the courtroom. It all happened so fast. He reached for his gun, heard the shrieks in the audience. Dean couldn’t believe his own eyes. There _frigging Aaron_ was, storming inside, a gun ready to fire in his hands. Castiel had spotted him too, got up, blatant shock and disbelief in his look. Aaron marched straight up to Cas, the gun pointed at him, a wordless threat. Dean shook his head unknowingly – he was having none of it. His colleague shouted at the visitors to exit the court immediately, but Dean barely heard him, felt as if he was turned into a pillar of salt. With grim determination, he aimed for Aaron, about to shoot and ask questions later.

“Hands up, you son of a bitch!” he yelled. But Aaron only sneered at him, grasped Cas roughly by the collar, then held the gun to his temple while they stood side by side. Cas’ and Dean’s eyes met, both of them terrified. Dean couldn’t believe the level of malice dwelling in Aaron’s eyes, how he seemed to get off on holding Cas at gunpoint.

“One false move and he’s dead,” Aaron quietly said, his voice oozing with hatred. Dean could see how he pressed the gun harder against Cas’ temple, making his partner wince nervously. Damn it! He hated how Aaron slung his free arm around Castiel’s waist, pulled him closer against his side, then shook him faux-friendly.

“You’re coming with me, sweetheart,” he said to Cas, while his eyes never let Dean out of his sight. A sickening sensation grew in Dean’s stomach, made him nauseous with plain fear. What did Aaron want with Cas? Where did he want to take him? Was he going to kill him? Overwhelmed with worry, Dean took a step forward, arousing Aaron’s attention. With sudden violence, he grabbed Castiel’s perfectly combed hair and yanked it back, making Cas gasp in pain, as Aaron held the gun right under his chin. Aaron’s bright blue eyes were gleaming coldly at Dean.

“One false move…,” he said. Dean froze, paralyzed. He heard his loud, hectic heartbeat throb in his ears, his knees were about to buckle. What was he supposed to do?

“It’s okay, Dean, it’s okay. Let me go,” Cas wheezed, moved his head a little so that he could look at his partner. Dean didn’t get the chance to argue or to intervene – Aaron already inched towards the side entrance, one arm wrapped around Cas’ middle, the other holding the gun against his head. He was walking backward, keeping Dean in his sight. Dean felt utterly helpless, out of his depth, as he watched the man he loved being taken away from him. This was like Lisa all over again. He couldn’t lose another partner! His heart was crying out for Cas, but there wasn’t much he could do. If he tried to shot Aaron now, he might actually be able to pull the trigger and hurt Cas – Dean couldn’t risk that.

All at once, a heroic man came out of nowhere, lunged at Aaron and Cas with a big jump, about to tackle Aaron’s legs and bring him down. Aaron’s reaction capacity was stunning: Before the man could reach him, Aaron had shot his upper thigh – with an anguished cry, the man collapsed on the ground, held his wounded leg. Dark blood flowed out of his bullet wound, wetted the floor, tinged it crimson red. In shock, Dean stared at the blood, his heart was about to explode. If Aaron was this reckless, this insouciant in regards to hurting somebody… what chances of survival did that leave for Cas?

Utterly frustrated, Dean had to stand by idly and witness how Aaron was getting away with Cas. One last time, his and Cas’ looks met, the faintest idea of a sad smile on Cas’ lips – it seemed so final, so desperately hapless, as if he knew he wasn’t going to see Dean again. It brought tears of panic to Dean’s eyes, nearly made him give up hope, too. But then, a moment later, his fighting spirit returned, hardened his will. He wasn’t going to lose another partner. Not like this. Never again. He breathed through several times, counted to ten, while Aaron and Cas were probably exiting the building. From outside, he heard screams and loud murmurs, people running hectically to and fro as if they were fleeing from the situation, and he knew they had come across Aaron. Then Dean dashed forward, intent on getting his man back safe and sound. He ran past confused and scared people, his shoes sliding over the marbled floors.

Dean ran out of the building just in time to see a rusty, gray transporter drive away with bone-breaking speed. Aaron drove off with screeching, fuming wheels. Dean couldn’t see inside the van, but he knew with inexplicable certainty it belonged to Aaron, and that Castiel was inside of it. _Damn it._ His heart was racing, cold sweat appeared on his brow. Dean reached for his mobile radio while jogging over to his police car to pursue the van. The control center answered to his signal quickly.

“Officer Winchester? What’s going on?”

Dean opened the car door and sat down behind the wheel. He had to bundle up all his strength not to panic. His thoughts were already somersaulting, trying to process what was happening.

“I need backup. I’m at the Sioux Falls’ United States Court House downtown, and there’s a hostage situation,” he explained breathlessly, ramming his car key into the ignition. “The kidnapper is armed and dangerous, he’s just driven off with the hostage in a gray Volkswagen van, heading east on the 229. I’m following them now. Over.”

Dean started the engine, turned the car, and sped along the street with blue lights and sirens switched on. He bit on his lower lip highly concentrated while driving around cars blocking his way. He drove with his foot down to the floor, squeezing out all the speed he could, his eyes restlessly searching for the gray van – only in the distance, he could still see it, driving recklessly in dangerous zigzags. There was a lot of honking and angry screaming from drivers on the road. On top of that, the sky had gotten terribly dark. Storm clouds were gathering in the east, thunder was growling threateningly. Trees nearby were swaying dangerously.

“Sending back-up your way now, over.”

“Wait! There’s also one guy at the court, who has been shot in the thigh. He needs an ambulance right away. Over.”

“Got it, Winchester. Listen, you know there’s a tornado warning? Where you’re headed to, there’s a lot of bad weather. We get very bad news coming in every minute from there,” his colleague said over the radio, blatant concern in her voice.

“I know, Donna. But he’s got _Cas_ , you know? I gotta do whatever I have to get him back…” he said determinately.

The van suddenly pulled into the side road. Dean took a sharp curve with squeaking wheels to follow it. Suddenly, severe rain fell from the sky, turned the world into an impenetrable veil of wet gray. Thick raindrops robbed Dean of his sight, filled up the whole windshield. Dean turned on the windshield wipers to their highest pace. A forceful gust hit the car’s side and made it drift away from the street. Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter and counter-steered with all his might, cursing under his breath. For a moment, he couldn’t see the traffic anymore. His gut feeling screamed at him that it was nothing but stupid to drive in this weather, especially hunting down another car at this insane speed. But he couldn’t abandon Cas just because of his own safety. He had to get to him.

When the rainstorm stopped for a second, he could see the road ahead better again – but the van had disappeared. Dean’s throat corded up painfully. Damn it. His heart was racing, his breath stumbling. This couldn’t be happening. He looked around in despair, searching for the van hectically. Damn it! He steered the car towards E. Madison St., guessing this was the road Aaron had taken. With nothing but frustration, he turned on his radio device again.

“Donna? I lost him. I’m on E. Madison Street now, heading east towards Brandon, but I have no idea if I’m on the right track any longer. Over.”

“Okay, Winchester. Do you want your backup to head in the same direction? Over.”

Dean contemplated his options for a second. He knew he was running out of time. There was no time for wrong decisions now. Who knew what Aaron was gonna do to Cas? Then he remembered the creepy dark house Aaron used to live in – maybe that was where he was taking Castiel to. It was worth a shot.

“Yeah, send someone down E. Madison Street and let someone else scour Sioux Fall and all traffic cams for a gray Volkswagen van. I’m heading to the house of the kidnapper now. It’s Castiel’s crazy ex, I only know his first name, Aaron. Over.”

“Alright, I’ll let the others know immediately… Jeez, Dean, what have you two stumbled into?”

“Wish I knew, Donna. Let’s end this nightmare quickly, please,” he said, utter despair pulling at his heartstrings.

…

Hail fell from the sky, rapped against the car’s windshield as if it wanted to be invited in. Ominous black and gray rain clouds where everywhere, seemed so weighed down with rain, so close to the ground, that you could actually touch them. It wasn’t even afternoon, and it was so dark, it could have been night. The windshield wipers screeched at their highest speed, busily shoved tons of rain away. Aaron’s grip on the wheel was tight, his face a mask of grim determination. With one hand, he held the gun pointed at Cas, ready to shoot, should Cas try anything funny. Speechless, Cas studied him, the waves of adrenaline slowly ebbed away. It was strange, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. Sure, it had been a shock to see Aaron again, to be kidnapped by him at gunpoint level. But now, when his eyes wandered over the man he had known and loved all those years ago, he didn’t feel fear, nor disgust, or regret. He was calm, tranquil, ready for whatever was about to happen. Castiel instinctively knew it had something to do with the love he had given and received within the last years in his relationship with Dean – it had set him free, had given them a wonderful life, had closed so many wounds from the past… It didn’t matter if Aaron was going to kill him now, he could never take that love away.

Aaron, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as composed as Castiel – his hands were trembling and twitching, the look of his eyes was haunted. He kept checking the rearview mirror if anyone was still pursuing them. With a melancholic smile, Castiel had watched Dean’s police car chasing them and how he had lost them due to the bad weather. Now no one seemed in sight, the roads had become eerily empty, as if he and Aaron were the only people in this world. The impenetrable wall of darkness ahead of them was to blame, certainly – castles and towers of clouds loomed there, about to bring chaos, wreak havoc. Aaron was heading right into that direction, flooring it, the car sliding every now and then on the wet asphalt. It was madness. They heard the loud, creepy tornado sirens everywhere, how they wailed and wailed…

“Why are you doing this?” Castiel asked suddenly, his voice surprisingly gentle. Aaron gave him a quick, sinister look.

“Shut up,” he only said, sounding annoyed. Cas frowned. He was not having any of it. He wasn’t the same man Aaron had known, wasn’t going to leave it at that.

“Aaron, _I mean it_. What do you get out of this? You know Dean will find you, and he will-“

“I said _shut up!”_ Aaron yelled, startling Cas with his unexpected aggressive outburst. In the next second, something dark approached his face; only too late he realized it was Aaron’s fist flung at him – the hard collision with his jaw made his head jerk back, it fell against the car’s window. Dazed with throbbing pain, Cas remained where he was, his vision failing him. With confusion, he read the satisfied smirk on Aaron’s mouth, sensed an immense wave of hatred surging through him. But his senses became numb, his head was swimming – he passed out without knowing it.

…

Castiel slowly came to when someone dragged him out of the car. It hurt to think, he couldn’t really sort through his thoughts or what was happening. Aaron had slung an arm around his side, had placed one of Cas’ arms around his shoulder, and he was hauling him over the muddy, mossy forest floor. The air was humid with rainfall, though now, it only drizzled. A terrible bluster of wind was all around them, ruffled through their hair, whistled alarmingly. Feebly, Castiel uplifted his head, watched the innumerous pine trees swaying dangerously in the storm. Boughs fell to the ground with loud thuds, branches broke with loud cracks. A familiar sight appeared in front of Cas, finally – the old cabin Aaron owned. When they had been a couple and experienced happier times of their relationship, they had spent some nice weekends here… the place was attached to good times, but now, as Castiel contemplated it in the storm all around them, he didn’t know what to feel. Aaron pulled him inside, let Castiel fall down on the outworn couch carelessly.

He sat down in the armchair opposite to Cas, the look on his face smug, weirdly satisfied. Still he held a gun pointed at Castiel, but Cas didn’t even care about it any longer. Briefly, his thoughts fled to Dean, wondered how he was doing, whether he was somewhere safe when the tornado touched down.

“You asked me why I’m doing this…,” Aaron said with a faux-friendly smile. Castiel stared into his bright blue eyes, detected the iciness of his soul there, the absence of sympathy. He wondered why he had ever fallen in love with him, what he had seen in him. That thing in front of him wasn’t a man, it was a monster.

“I watched you for many years, Castiel, you and Dean, though you didn’t even know it. Saw you buy that house, settle in, how everything seemed in apple-pie order. And you forgot about me, as if I had never existed. Truth is, I never let you go, you just weren’t aware.”

Castiel frowned, shocked about Aaron’s confession. All that time he had lurked around, spied on him? He found it hard to breathe, anxiety making his chest constricted. What did he know about them? About their lives? What kind of leverage did he have over them?

“You’re wrong,” he insisted, “you never had to let me go, because I was never yours. I don’t belong to you, Aaron.”

Aaron smiled at him, gave him a long, evaluating look.

“You’ve changed. In the past, you would have never been this defiant. However,” he sighed, “I told myself to wait. I wanted you to be happy, to think yourself safe, and when you least expected it, I wanted to take all that happiness away from you, make you mine again.”

Castiel scoffed at this stupid monologue. Aaron had completely gone insane.

“I will never be with you again, Aaron.”

His fear returned at once, when Aaron got up slowly, threateningly, walked towards Castiel sitting there on the couch. A gruesome danger glistened in those heartless eyes, silenced Cas in awe. Flashbacks crossed his mind, made him shudder with pain and terror. He remembered his bruised face, the many nights Aaron had beaten him up, how he had cried to himself at night, trails of blood and tears mixing. How utterly helpless and shattered he had felt, as if there was no one in the world who could save him.

With shock-widened eyes, he watched as Aaron sat down in his lap, a winning, evil smile painted to his lips. At the next moment, his hands gripped Castiel’s throat in a vise-like, squeezing harshly. Castiel tried to breathe, tried to gulp, but he couldn’t move, was paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t breathe! Aaron loosened his grip for a moment, heard with zest how Castiel wheezed, how he greedily sucked in a shaky breath, then Aaron strangled him again, scooted closer. Cas’ hands touched Aaron’s shoulders, a wordless plea to stop hurting him. Suddenly, Aaron’s face was only inches away, their eyes locked. Aaron’s hands remained around Cas’ throat, but he slackened his grip once more so that Cas could breathe. And then he pressed his lips against Castiel’s, kissed him crudely, uncaring whether Castiel liked it or not. Cas sensed his slight stubble brushing against his jaw, his thin, cool lips ravaging his mouth, kissing him hard and passionately. He whimpered desperately, didn’t want any of this. He felt Aaron’s hot hard-on pushing against his abdomen, jerking impatiently.

For a second, Aaron released his mouth, stared into Cas’ eyes with lust-dilated pupils. He was panting, the smile had slipped from his mouth. He took Cas’ hand in his, placed it on his throbbing, clothed erection, made Castiel engulf it in a light grip. Moaning, Aaron canted his hips so that he was closer to Cas. Shocked, Cas swallowed nervously, felt awfully trapped.

“Stop, I don’t want this,” he whispered, his heart racing with panic.

Aaron contemplated him with a piercing look, laid a hand in Castiel’s lap, and stroked his dick through his trousers slowly. By now, Cas was trembling like a leaf, about to lose hope. He was retreating to his old self, the version of himself from many years ago – the one, that didn’t fight back, that let Aaron beat him to a pulp, that let him touch him whenever, uncaring about Castiel’s needs. The vision of Dean then came to his mind’s eye, made his heart bleed with longing and love for him. He clearly saw the vivid green of Dean’s gorgeous eyes, his kissable rosy mouth shaped into a soft smile, heard the echo of his carefree laughter, felt the phantom touches of his sweet kisses… The urge to see him again became insufferable, tore Cas apart.

With a strength unknown to him, he pushed with his hands hard against Aaron’s chest, caused the other man to get up clumsily, his balance lost. Like lightning, Castiel stood up, his hands formed to fists, ready to defend himself. He wanted to see Dean again. It wasn’t going to end like that. Aaron sneered at him, raised his fists, a challenging grin rested on his face – one that Castiel longed to beat away. What made him pause, though, was the thing on the wall behind Aaron, it aroused his interest: A fire extinguisher. A suicidal plan formed in his jumbled brain. He ran past Aaron, grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall, felt its heavy weight in his hands. Aaron was behind before he could even count to three. Angrily, he touched Cas’ shoulder, forced him to turn around to him. Castiel used the momentum of the movement, used the strength of his arms and hips, and rammed the fire extinguisher against Aaron’s head mercilessly.

Aaron’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, he flopped down to the ground unceremoniously, all his limbs turned to jelly – there he lay, a heap of unconscious flesh and bone. Relief flooded Cas as he studied his attacker knocked out; Cas was panting, felt as if he hadn’t breathed properly in ages. Still somewhat shaky, he reached for his phone, so that he could call the police and an ambulance for Aaron. But then his plan was thwarted – an ear-bleeding, loud creaking resounded, the cabin vibrated violently. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel realized something was falling through the roof, taking down half of it. It crashed against him – a sharp pain shot through his ribs, his right hand. Before he knew what was going on, he fell to the ground, next to Aaron. Everything went dark, and he lost any sense of space and time.

…

When Castiel came to, the cabin was no more: The roof was gone, so were all walls – only the foundations of the cabin remained, broken timbers showing with sharp edges. Red shingles from the roof lay around everywhere, there was debris, everything lay in shambles. Bewildered, Cas looked around as far as he could. There was something heavy on him, which made it impossible to move or get up. Then he became aware of the excruciating pain shooting through his body, pulsating hotly. His right hand was definitely damaged, his left ribcage hurt, and he had trouble breathing. He finally got a good look at the thing weighing down on him – it seemed to be a big, fallen maple tree, and he lay right under its crown. It must have been the cause for the cabin to tumble down. How long had he been out?

He could see the dark sky right above him, leaves and rubble flying through the air spookily. Even here, within the remains of the cabin, he sensed the strong wind toying with his clothes, with everything lying around scattered. The pine trees outside were cracking, the creepy crying and howling of the wind was in the air. A cold shiver ran down Castiel’s spine as he watched the storm clouds fly by. It seemed the tornado hadn’t passed through yet. But it was dangerously close. He could hear it munching on trees and other cabins in the vicinity, a quiet but deadly crunching sound as it destroyed and swallowed everything in its pass. His eyes fell on Aaron, who lay right next to him on his back, his lids closed, still unconscious. A bloody bruise was showing on his forehead, where Castiel had hit him with the fire extinguisher. The fallen tree had also gotten him, a huge branch was bearing down on his torso. Castiel wasn’t sure if he was still breathing, it was hard to tell.

A sudden idea sprang to his mind, set him into motion. With his left hand, he awkwardly reached for his cell phone, which had fallen next to him. It took him a good while until he unlocked it and called Dean’s number – he was a right-hander after all. His frayed nerves calmed down noticeably when he heard Dean pick up, when he heard his voice.

“Cas? Is that you?”

…

In next to no time, Dean had reached Aaron’s gloomy, dark house. He parked the car in front of it and rushed outside, his gun drawn. On high alert, he checked the area, peeked into the house. It seemed as if no one was there. Dean was losing hope. With every second passing, he felt his chances of finding Cas in time dwindle away. He kicked open the front door, not giving a damn about stealth or back-up anymore. Out of breath, he ran through the whole house, searched every room. Finally, he stopped, took a deep, trembling breath. He was about to lose it. Damn it! Castiel wasn’t here. He had followed the wrong track!

Deeply annoyed, too fraught with stress to think clearly, he ran outside again, about to jump into his car, and drive towards Brandon again. He momentarily paused as he contemplated the dark sky around him, saw the lack of daylight. It was as dark as if nightfall had come, as if the sun might never shine again.

He gave a wince when his cell phone suddenly rang. With nervous fingers he hectically produced it. Ecstasy bubbled hotly in his veins, made his heart skip a beat when he saw the caller’s name: It was Cas! He picked up the phone, couldn’t believe it.

“Cas? Is that you?” Dean asked. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Cas answered. Dean closed his eyes, sighed, as a warm wave of relief surged through him.

“Thank God. Cas, where are you? What’s going on? Where’s Aaron, that son of a bitch,” he sputtered, half in rage, half in fear. There was a brief pause, in which Dean listened to the roaring of his blood in his ears. He clutched the cell phone tighter, afraid the connection might break, that he would lose Castiel again.

“Aaron is… he’s unconscious. I knocked him over with a fire extinguisher. But I have no idea when he will wake up again. I don’t know how much time I’ve got left.”

“Okay, baby listen: if he’s unconscious right now – can you escape? Is there a door close by?”

“I can’t… I can’t move, Dean. I’m hurt. I’m in pain,” Castiel wheezed strained. Dean listened closely, terrorized by the obvious pain in Castiel’s voice. He was hurting! His heart somersaulted, he felt nauseated with concern for Cas.

“What do you mean, you can’t move?” he asked. He tightened the grip on his phone, his knuckles protruding. Worry for Cas mingled with the urge for revenge, and he gritted his teeth. He would make Aaron pay for every scratch, every damage he had afflicted on Cas.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll live,” Cas panted. “Listen, Dean, I don’t have much time. Aaron might come around any second now. I’m in the Big Sioux State Recreation Area, it’s a natural reserve right next to the Big Sioux River. Aaron has a cabin there, where he stays sometimes…”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said breathlessly. “Big Sioux State Recreation Area… that’s like ten miles east from Sioux Falls, right?”

Damn it – so he had been on the right track before. He should have continued driving on E. Madison Street after all. He could have kicked himself for his bad luck.

“Yes,” Castiel groaned, sounding stifled as he was fighting against another wave of pain. “I’m in cabin twenty-four, or, well, the remains of it. I’m not sure how much longer I can fend Aaron off. And I think the tornado is heading right our way. I can hear the pines breaking apart outside already. You can’t come here, though, Dean. It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt, too. Wait at least until the tornado has passed.”

“Cut the crap, Cas. I’m on my way,” Dean said stubbornly, cutting Cas off. He was about to hang up when he suddenly heard Castiel’s voice again.

“Damn it, Dean. You are so stubborn! Why can’t you listen to me for once?”

Dean smiled, despite the panic and chaos toying with his mind.

“You know I don’t care what happens to me, Cas, as long as I get you back. I’m coming to get you right now.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and Dean wondered if Castiel had hung up or if Aaron had woken up again.

“Whatever happens, Dean… I love you,” Castiel said quietly now, tenderness and sincerity in each of his words. Dean winced with bittersweet pain, wanting nothing more than to hold Cas in his arms right now and kiss him silly. He smiled tentatively.

“I love you, too, Cas,” he whispered. Then the line went dead.

…

Dean sped through Sioux Falls, headed down the interstate as fast as his police car allowed it. Via radio, he had maneuvered his back-up in the same direction. When Donna informed him that the tornado had touched ground only a few miles away from Castiel’s location, Dean’s heart convulsed with deadly terror. He pictured the worst-case scenarios without wanting to. What if he didn’t make it in time? What if… He shook his head, willing these glum thoughts away. He would save Cas, despite Aaron, despite the tornado, despite whatever. Embittered, he gripped the wheel tighter, floored it, so that the engine was blasting away.

It didn’t take long, and he could actually see the ghostlike shape of the tornado at the horizon: A tunnel of clouds, debris, and air dancing its lethal dance. It was huge, moved with grace, uncaring about the things it destroyed. Hail was falling, gusts of strong wind pushed Dean’s car left or right, again and again, made it hard to steer the vehicle. Everyone was fleeing from the tornado, the road back to Sioux Falls was crammed – but where Dean drove, the street was free. Cars were honking, giving signs to him with their brights, but Dean didn’t care, didn’t pay heed to it. He saw a line of trees devoured by the tornado easily, power poles collapsing. A road sign read “Big Sioux State Recreation Area”, despite the pouring down rain, Dean saw it in time. He saw the tornado wandering right through the area where he assumed Castiel was. His heart sank to his boots. What if this was the end of the line? What if he never saw Castiel again?

Despaired, he turned off from the main road and followed the signs pointing to the cabins. He had to stop the car when the tornado was close by – he couldn’t see anything as debris, dust, and dirt flew all around him. The car was shaking from left to right as if giants were toying with it. When it was over, Dean started the car again, drove over mounds of wreckage the tornado had left in its wake. Finally, he reached the area, where the cabins were supposed to be. He killed the engine, sat there, stunned at the given sight: No cabin was intact anymore, their rooves and walls damaged, collapsed... There were fallen trees everywhere. He took a deep breath, persuading himself that it was going to be alright. He would find Cas. It was alright, it was alright, it was – an elder woman suddenly appeared, walked towards him with a limp. Her white hair and ashen face were covered in bright red blood. He jumped out of the car, rushed towards her to help. The woman was sobbing with pain, seemed traumatized. She touched his upper arm, crying, too upset to talk. With gentle moves, Dean directed her towards his car, made her sit down in the passenger seat. In his trunk, he found a warming rescue blanket, put it around her shaking frame cautiously.

From somewhere nearby, he heard anguished screams for help. He exhaled all the nervousness, pushed his fears and worries aside – he was needed now, he had to function now.

In an instant, he had made an emergency call, asking for several ambulances. In the distance, he already could hear the sirens from his colleagues approaching. Dean set himself to work. Like a maniac, he hurried from one collapsed cabin to the other, searched for survivors; with his bare hands, he removed debris, never-minding his fingers were bleeding and numb with exhaustion already. Within thirty minutes, he had rescued an elder man, a woman and her boy, two frat boys. All of them were waiting for the ambulances around Dean’s police car, looking completely shell-shocked, while Dean kept searching endlessly. _Where was Cas?_

He barely noticed the police cars and ambulances arriving at the scene. He had to find Cas. It was all he could think of, the only reason his tired limbs were still moving. Tears welled in his eyes as despair slowly but surely got to him. He prayed to a God he didn’t believe in, promised him all kinds of things if only he gave him Cas back. Ultimately, he started shouting Cas’ name, hoping he could hear him. It worked – from one of the cabins, he heard a muffled, weak “Dean? Dean!” in return. His feet were basically tripping over, he ran that quickly towards Castiel’s voice, nameless relief overwhelming him. _He was alive, he was alive!_

He recognized the big maple tree laying oddly in the middle of the former cabin, snaked his way past it. For a second, he stopped dead in his track when he spotted Aaron lying stock-still on the ground, his face pale. Then, his eyes moved to the left, and there he was: Cas. He was awake, but he lay under a big branch, looked the worse for wear. The incredible pain in his eyes made Dean gasp, lunge forward. With all his might, he shoved the branch away, released Castiel. He fell down to his knees, cradled his face in his hands, unaware of the hot tears streaming down his cheeks abundantly. He showered Castiel’s mouth with brief kisses, couldn’t believe his luck. To feel him close again, his body warmth, his pliant petal lips… Then Cas groaned in pain, let his head fall down to the ground with a quiet thud. He smiled at Dean as their fingers intertwined blindly.

“Told you I’d find you,” Dean quipped, then brushed the trails of tears from his cheeks. Cas gave him a melancholic smile, his eyes never leaving Dean’s. His thumb brushed over the back of Dean’s hand, and it was so gentle and fond, it made Dean almost cry again.

“It’s so good to see you again…,” Cas croaked, both of them knowing exactly what he meant – they had been so close to losing one another for good. Finally, Castiel harrumphed, his eyes focussing on Aaron. He beckoned Dean to check in on him.

“Is he… is he, you know,” Castiel asked tentatively. Even though he hated to let go of Castiel’s hand, Dean quickly crawled towards Aaron, put his fingers on his aorta, and searched for his pulse. He frowned as he didn’t find one. Moved his fingers elsewhere, made double sure. He gave Cas a long look, heavy with meaning, nodded subtly. Cas winced with pain, tears welling in his eyes, his smile was twitchy, a disturbed expression in his glance.

“I’ve killed him. My god…”

It was probably the shock from the events of today, combined with the physical pain Castiel was in – but he started crying uncontrolled, sobbed, shaking like a leave. Dean’s heart was breaking at the sight. He crouched down next to Cas, tenderly framed his clean-cut face with both hands. With his thumbs, he wiped the tears away, gave Cas a melancholic smile.

“Listen, Cas… you know I don’t believe in God the way that you do. But today, I do. He punished Aaron and returned you to my arms. Today, I believe in God.”

Castiel smiled at that, deeply touched, and started crying again, though it was mingled with carefree laughter. Dean leaned down to kiss him deeply, sending silent prayers to whoever had spared his Cas.

…

The emergency room was like a battlefield – wherever Dean looked, there were wounded people lying on stretchers, brought to all available trauma rooms. Assistant doctors and nurses were quickly moving from one to the other, clearly understaffed for a calamity like this. Dean didn’t leave Castiel’s side – his partner lay on a wheeled stretcher, every now and then dozing off into a pain-induced slumber. Sometimes he opened his eyes to small slits and then he looked for Dean, but he always was reassured and even smiled a little once he recognized Dean standing next to him. He held Cas’ good undamaged hand and squeezed it gently, felt the pressure returned.

As the nurse had told a worried Dean, Cas was stable, and even though he was in pain, he had to wait until the most severe cases had been dealt with. And judging from the ongoing chaos in the emergency room, this would take some time. There were a handful of people, who had been brought in with multiple foreign objects sticking out of their bodies – scraps of glass or metal, which the tornado had toyed with, and which had found their destination in those poor people. Some of these injured people weren’t even conscious when they were brought in – those that were, were a terrible sight to witness, one that left Dean panicked and speechless with horror. They were crying and shaking with pain, bathed in blood, convulsing and screaming unrestrained. Even behind closed doors, Dean heard their wailing – it sounded as if they were sawed up alive. It was nauseating, appalling, made Dean’s stomach turn.

His eyes repeatedly fled to Castiel’s features, which were contorted with pain; Dean counted the injuries he could see on his partner; and even though it were many and it would take some time for them to heal, Dean couldn’t believe how lucky they actually were - that Cas wasn’t one of those poor bastards, who were screaming themselves hoarse now. He was still worried madly, about to lose his sanity because of all his concern for Cas – but deep inside of him, Dean knew that Cas would be okay.

The time he had to wait was nothing but torture; accompanied by the screams of agony, this place seemed like hell. For a while, Dean attempted to distract himself and looked around the waiting room area, where relatives, partners, and friends waited for their loved ones. But this sight only made it worse. On these people’s faces, Dean detected the same bewilderment he was feeling, the same utter helplessness. They were all exposed to fate and the skills of all these busy men and women working here.

At last, it was Cas’ turn for a treatment – they rolled away the stretcher, with Cas really out of it. Dean wasn’t allowed to follow, and his hands suddenly felt awfully empty, as if they had taken Cas away from him. Like a nervous wrack, he kept pacing up and down the waiting room, until he realized it annoyed everyone – so he moved his ass outside to the corridor, where he didn’t bother anyone. He was jittery, totally shaken. Only slowly, the full extent of this ordeal of a day dawned on him.

His adrenaline levels were finally diminishing. He stopped in his track, leaned against a wall, and closed his eyes, listened to his body. He wished Sammy or Bobby or Benny or Charlie would be here, anyone close to him right now, who could give him a little comfort. On the other hand, he didn’t even have one ounce of strength left to make a call. He subtly knocked the back of his head against the wall, willed the moment of weakness away. He was exhausted, utterly spent, hungry and thirsty, and all of his limbs felt as if he had run a marathon. But what was his exhaustion compared to Cas’ wounds, compared to the dread Aaron had put him through? Dean gritted his teeth as a wave of blind fury overwhelmed him. Aaron had held a gun to Cas’ head, had abducted him… Dean remembered Aaron’s lifeless eyes, how his demolished body had lain there between the debris the tornado had left. And even though Dean knew it was immoral, he couldn’t help but feel grim satisfaction course through all of his cells – Aaron had gotten what he had deserved. He had sown the wind and reaped the whirlwind, literally.

It seemed like forever until they were done with Cas. They had brought him into medical radiology to have a better look at his ribs, turned out, three of them were broken, fortunately, only his left side was afflicted. He had a severe concussion and a broken right hand. When they rolled him out more than two hours later, he was half awake, but pumped full with pain killers. The look in his eyes was hazy, and there was a dopey smirk on his mouth when Dean jogged to his side.

“Hey, Dean,” Cas slurred his speech, “you’re still here. Isn’t it getting late?”

Then his lids fell shut, and he murmured something inaudible, dozed off again. Cas was right. Evening was already approaching, and by now, Dean had lost count how many hours he had been on his feet. He was overwhelmed with heavy fatigue, waves of tiredness crashing against his forehead again and again, but somehow, he managed to stay awake and function. The nurse gave him a meaningful look as they rolled the stretcher along the corridor towards the silvery elevators.

“We’re gonna bring him to his room now and keep him here for close monitoring, just a few days to make sure he’s really okay,” the nurse explained. Apparently, she realized Dean was sick with worry, about to lose his mind if someone didn’t give him more information asap, so she had pity on him and even gave him a sweet, heartfelt smile. It soothed his shaken soul; he was deeply grateful for this little gesture of kindness.

They brought Castiel into his room, where he continued sleeping like a baby – like a very drugged, hurt baby, Dean noted. He finally had time and enough energy to pick up his phone. He was stunned when he saw all the missed phone calls and messages he had received, instantly worried about his beloved ones and if they were okay. But when he thumbed through the messages quickly, he realized that they were okay and just worried about him and Cas. Judging from Sam’s status, he was still online, so Dean called him, despite the late hour. On the corridor, he spoke quietly into the phone, his voice breathless, his words tripping over, as he explained all that had happened today.

“Dean, you should have called – we were worried sick about you,” Sam scolded, which made Dean chuckle humorlessly. With his hand, he rubbed over his burning, tired eyes and sighed.

“I know, Sammy. I was scared, too. At first, I was just trying to get to Cas and save him from Aaron. And then that damn tornado came and wreaked havoc everywhere, and there were so many wounded people that needed my help. I haven’t seen that many ambulances in all my life. And then I was in the hospital, waiting for them to have a look at Cas, and…,” he stopped, his throat corded up with emotion. He was overtired, at the end of his strengths. It had been a damn long day.

“I get it, Dean. Sorry, that came across wrong. We’re relieved you and Cas are more or less okay. Take your time, get some rest, and call us tomorrow when everything has settled down a little bit, yeah? And say hello from us to Cas.”

…

Dean had managed driving home, where he made quick work. He took a cold shower against his fatigue, watched the blood and dirt of the day disappearing in the drain. He was so god damn tired, about to collapse, but he didn’t have time to dwell on his exhaustion: Cas needed him. With fast, thoughtful movements, he raided their closet, packed a bag for Cas’ stay in the hospital. He made sure to get his favorite T-shirt, too – an old, soft cotton shirt in navy blue with the logo of Led Zeppelin. For a second, he paused, brought it to his nose, and deeply inhaled the unique soapy, lemony scent of Cas, felt it widening his chest. The dam finally broke, as realization set in what a horrendous day it had been, how afraid he had been. He breathed against the pain, tried to soothe his frayed nerves, but he couldn’t stop crying into the shirt, Cas’ scent all around him. Damn it. He had come so close to losing him, it was hard to digest.

His ride back to the hospital was plunged into contemplative silence. It was getting dark outside, the electric, colorful lights of shops and houses passed him by. The events of the last days bustled about in Dean’s head; it seemed they were pieces of a puzzle he tried to put together: Castiel sitting in the flowerbeds with bees all around him; the shocked look in his deep blue eyes when he had seen Aaron for the first time. His wrecked face when he had confessed his fears about being not good enough for Dean, his worries about starting a family of their own. The night they had made love and held hands, as if they were silently promising the other to never let go. Aaron holding a gun to Cas’ head. Dean racing through Sioux Fall to get him back. Cradling Castiel’s face in his hands, their tears of relief mingling… Dean bit on his lower lip as he started to realize what it all meant, what his heart was telling him. Swiftly, he turned the Impala around, headed downtown to run an errand, resoluteness bringing a tender smile to his mouth.

A while later, he returned to the hospital, the duffel bag with Castiel’s things carried over his shoulder. Castiel was still deeply asleep, looking lost and terribly vulnerable in the hospital bed. Dean sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside him, scooted over to have a better look at him in the dark. He looked his fill, mesmerized by the way Castiel’s chest moved up and down, how his mouth was slightly parted in his sleep. His breaths created a wonderfully tranquil music, which, slowly but surely, lulled Dean to sleep. His head rolled to the side without him realizing it, and he fell asleep there on the chair. The last conscious thought flitting through his mind was the hope, that tomorrow would be a better day.

…

They were woken up by a nurse coming inside around seven. The pale sunlight was shining through the windows. Dean yawned heartily, tried to figure out where the hell he was. Then he realized he was still fully clothed and sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, and all the memories of yesterday rushed back to his mind. He grimaced unhappily. His shoulders were awfully uptight, so he sat up straight and stretched himself. His eyes fell on Castiel, who was silently watching him, amusement dancing in his eyes. He seemed wide awake already. The nurse greeted them kindly and did her routine check. Castiel barely managed to concentrate on her questions, his eyes traveled to Dean all the time, seemed glued to him. It made Dean smile softly, his heart flutter excitedly. He remembered the plan he had come up with yesterday evening, let one hand wander into his jacket pocket to reassure himself it hadn’t been a lucid dream. His fingers found the item in his pocket, clasped it tightly. A spike of nervousness shot through him, he swallowed around the big lump in his throat.

Finally, the nurse was done and left the room with the promising hint Castiel might be released today. When she was gone, Dean got up and stooped over Cas. His hand gently touched his cheek, his thumb stroked over the light stubble on his chin. Their eyes met, and Dean smiled softly. He leaned down and kissed Cas deeply, urged him to open his mouth with his own. There was an urgency, an aching need lingering in their kiss, which made Dean’s head spin, which brought a hot blush to his cheeks. For a second, he let go of Cas to see the expression in his eyes, was overwhelmed to find nothing but adoration and desire there. He bent down for another kiss, electrified when Castiel kissed him harder, making him forget the whole damn world around them.

At last, Castiel stopped kissing him, panted against Dean’s kiss-wet mouth breathlessly. With his good hand, he touched the back of Dean’s head, brought their foreheads together. For a sweet moment of idleness, they closed their lids, enjoyed being reunited like this.

“Good morning, honey,” Cas quietly said, blindly pecked Dean’s lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean replied muffled into their kiss, making Castiel chuckle and let him go. With a cheeky grin, Dean sat down again on his chair, watched the sunlight refract beautifully in Castiel’s eyes. They were shining like gems, twinkled with an unfathomable zest for life, which cut right through Dean’s heart. He could barely find the words for what he was feeling, how relieved he was to see the man he loved. However, his good mood diminished somewhat when he examined Castiel’s wounds. Castiel’s eyes followed his, came to rest on the plaster cast around his right hand. He had an unhappy frown on his face and sighed miserably.

"Damn it, I don't think I can use my hand in the next weeks. And it's the right one on top of that!" he complained. Dean considered it a small price for what Castiel had survived. He shrugged.

"Well, I can do the cooking for once," he offered. In return, he received Castiel’s dark look.

"Please don't. I still have nightmares about your chili cheese fries."

"Come on, Cas, they weren't that bad.”

They laughed a little. Dean thought it was wonderful to see Cas smile again, how loveable and dolce he looked. After what he had been through, it was a miracle to Dean that he still had the strength to smile and act unperturbed. The smile slowly slipped from Dean's mouth as a bittersweet notion gripped his heart. He sought for Castiel’s eyes and gave him a tender, meaningful look. Dean reached for Cas’ undamaged left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"You scared the hell out of me, Cas."

He sounded choked with emotion, for he was still rattled. He felt as if he was right on a wild roller-coaster of emotions. Cas smiled a little at him, but there was a sharp grimness in his look. He nodded subtly, understood the severity of the events.

"I was scared, too, Dean. I thought that tornado would kill us all. And I had warned you not to come, but you wouldn't listen," he scolded, half annoyed. It made Dean smiled amused. After all these years of their relationship, Cas still didn’t give up when it came to Dean’s stubbornness – as if he could ever change that. 

"You know me, Cas. I just had to make sure you were okay. And I did, didn't I?"

He gave his partner a winning smile, but Cas just rolled his eyes and badly tried to stifle a lopsided smirk. He looked at their intertwined fingers and stroked Dean's back of the hand lovingly.

"You're reckless and impulsive," Cas noted sternly. Then he looked up at Dean from under his lashes, heat burning in his eyes.

"... and I love you for that, you idiot."

Dean harrumphed, scratched his neck abashed with his other hand. He was practically steaming, he was blushing so hard. The moment seemed right to him to finally man up and put his plan into action. He let go of Cas’ hand, reached into his jacket pocket again, fingering the item resting there, waiting for him to reveal it. Castiel caught the change in his demeanor instantly, gave him a wry look.

“What is it?” he asked, making Dean huff out a nervous chuckle. He took a deep breath, drowned in the depth of the blue wells that were Castiel’s eyes. The longer he looked at him, the more the certainty in his heart grew, and all nervousness fell from him, was nearly forgotten. He smiled affectionately.

“Listen, Cas… yesterday was awful, but it made me realize something – that I would be a mess without you, buddy. That I never wanna be without you again. And I know, you’re having doubts whether you’re enough for me because of this whole family thing… but I’m sure about us, Cas. You’re all I want, all I need. So… to prove a point,” he ended with a cheeky smirk. He got up from the chair and got down on one knee, took Castiel’s left hand into his caringly. Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise when Dean protruded the small box with his other hand and opened it – it showed a white gold ring dotted with small round sapphires. Cas’ jaw dropped, he seemed completely frozen.

“Cas, will you marry me?”

Castiel sucked in a shaky breath, tears welling in his eyes. There was the sweetest smile on his rosy lips. It made a shiver run down Dean’s spine. He had never wanted him more than at this moment, wanted to lay the world at his feet. Cas sat up a little, as far as he could, grimacing slightly at the pain. His good hand encompassed Dean’s cheek with unspeakable tenderness as their eyes met.

“It’d be an honor, Dean. Three times _yes_ , I will,” Cas said with a contagious bright smile. It was reaching up to his eyes, made them shine unearthly beautiful. Stunned, Dean regarded him, felt as if all his innards were melting. He was brain-dead, infatuated goo. Castiel laughed about his obvious surprise, patted his cheek kindly.

“What? Were you thinking I’d say no? By the way, you’re the only one I know who could include the word “buddy” in a marriage proposal,” he quipped. In the end, realization set in, and Dean’s paralysis ended. He got up, vibrating with warm bliss in every of his cell. With loving, cautious movements, he slipped the ring on Castiel’s left ring finger, admiring how perfect it fit, as if it had always belonged there. Their eyes locked, both of them sharing the pleasant anticipation of what the future held for them. Dean leaned down, placed a fond, slow kiss on his betrothed mouth. For a quick second, he let go, deeply moved by the love pulsating between them. He looked into Castiel’s eyes, thinking he would never tire of doing so.

“I love you, Cas.”

Castiel smiled, pecked his lips once more, hummed against them with appreciation.

“Dean, I love you, too.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There!! Happy?? XDD 
> 
> So, I don't think bonus chapter 2 will be posted next week, I need some time now to cool my stupid head and relax a little - but you'll never know, apparently I'm an insane writing machine... 
> 
> Ugh, please let me know what you think. This chapter nearly killed me. But I'm quite happy with it.


	21. Bonus chapter 2: An angel called me aside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, how are you doing? Finally managed to finish this second bonus chapter. Can’t believe the story is finished at last – I could have continued forever and ever hahaha. But honestly, I felt inspiration and time leaving me more and more, so I’d rather end this soon and right.  
> So, I wanna squeeze in my afterword here, if y’all don’t mind, because I have some things to say about this story. I haven’t written such a long-ass fanfiction in forever, I think in at least over 6 years, so that was something I kinda wanted to do again. That I *needed* to do again. 
> 
> I’ve been writing for over 19 years now (started with 13, you do the math, yeah, I’m old :-P), and it has always been therapeutic for me. Last year was one of the worst years of my life, to be honest, you know, when the shit hits the fan and so on, so I had to process a lot. Who needs therapy when you have fanfiction, right? Crazed laughter. This story has been very therapeutic for me and a good distraction from my own messed-up life. I “survived” a long-term toxic and emotionally abusive relationship, that had been a big part of my life – without digging into much detail, I was a lot like Castiel showing up on Bobby’s door step, minus the blood and domestic violence. I wish there had been someone like Dean from this story in my life, who would have put me back together, but I had to do most of that on my own and with the help of my friends and family, and I feel awfully blessed to have them in my life.
> 
> I’m feeling a lot better now, by the way, as if I’ve finally reached the zenith of this mountain of shit hahaha. I’m not the same broken, traumatized person anymore that I was last year. And I think there’s a beautiful truth in all this pain and heartache that I’ve been through – that there is always hope that things can get better. Dean and Cas in this story are the reflection of that image, neither of them would have thought they could ever be happy again after fate had been so cruel to them, and look what great things have happened to them. That’s also a lesson for you, reader, that whatever you’re going through: It can get better. It will get better. The pain will lessen, but you have to fight.   
> Actually, this story should have been a lot darker, but then I decided the world is already dark enough, we have a frigging pandemic going on, and I need something to cheer me up. What’s better than fluffy romantic Destiel, right?? So, that’s how this sappy 170k fanfic turned from bloody to sweet hehehe. 
> 
> I know the story didn’t really get a lot of attention – but first of all, this story meant a lot to me, because I spent 9 to 10 months writing it (and you know the background of it now why I started writing it) – and secondly, I’m really happy about your reviews, bookmarks and kudos. They mean the world to me. Each one of them I appreciate so much, so thank you for reading and sticking with this story! I’m glad the overall feedback is positive hooray. What really kept me going was reading your reviews and receiving your kudos, they really made my day. 
> 
> I don’t think I’ll post another lengthy Destiel fic again, though, but there will probably be more one-shots or fanfiction with a few chapters here and there. Reach out to me if you like, I always love to talk with you. 
> 
> Wherever you are, whatever you’re going through or in what phase you are in your life right now – I wish you all the best from the bottom of my heart and hope you really enjoy life.  
> Take care!  
> Yours,   
> Mistofstars

**Bonus Chapter 2: Chapter 21 –** **An angel called me aside**

### One year later, fall (4 years since Dean and Castiel got together) ###

Castiel experienced a grim day at court today. He was the judge of an ongoing murder trial, and today was the last hearing before he would pronounce the sentence. In his career, Castiel had held many murder trials – most murders had happened in the heat of the moment, and many times, the murderer felt deep remorse about his act of violence. There were some cases, though, which stuck to Castiel’s head: It was usually when the murder had been especially cruel, or when the killer had been cold-blooded, the corruption of their soul reflected in their eyes. His current trial would be one of the later – not only had the murder been nastily violent, but the killer himself was also emanating a dark aura. While he listened to the accusations during the trial, the killer constantly displayed a malicious smug to Cas. 

It was a weird case. The defendant was called Mark, but he called himself Lucifer and told everyone, who would listen, that he was the reincarnation of the devil. Insanity glistened in his pale blue eyes – the expert assessment lying in front of Castiel told him that this man wasn’t in his right senses and probably needed preventive detention. That was the one thing Castiel had first stumbled upon – it wasn’t common to meet a man who announced he was the devil himself. The other thing was the way he had killed his wife, Kelly Kline; with his bare hands, he had throttled and beaten her to death. Castiel had seen the photos of her corpse, had seen all the bruises on her battered face. The reason, why he had killed her, was also strange – Mark insisted, that Kelly had given birth to an angelic creature, their son Jack, and that Jack was his rival. He freely admitted that he had wanted to first kill her, then kill him. Their boy had seen the whole murder – it was a miracle that he had been able to escape and flee to their next-door neighbors.

Now Castiel beheld the boy, who was merely eight years old. He had light brown hair strictly combed to one side, his clothes oddly dapper and mature for his age – and he was awfully polite and sickly pale. He had been taken to the witness stand, only under the premise that his father wasn’t present. However, intimidation was clearly visible in his eyes, his whole demeanor was meek, his posture tense. Castiel smiled sadly at him as the caregiver from the children’s home he was now staying at gently touched Jack’s shoulder to encourage him. Jack reminded him so much of himself after he had lost his mother – granted, he had been twice his age, but it still had been a shock one simply didn’t recover from. He saw the same confusion and forlornness he had experienced back then mirrored in Jack’s eyes. With patience, Castiel listened to Jack’s stuttered narration of that night when he had seen his father murder his mother. When tears hotly welled in Jack’s eyes, Castiel’s throat constricted painfully with sympathy for the boy. He watched him slowly break down, crumbling under the pressure, and decided he had heard enough. When Jack wiped his tears away with trembling hands, Castiel gave the care-giver a subtle, solemn nod towards the door, then he thanked Jack kindly and told him he could wait outside if he wanted to know the sentence right away.

He gave the trial jury half an hour to debate internally, then decide whether the defendant was guilty or innocent. After they returned, he asked all of them – their verdict was clear: twelve out of twelve decisions declared Mark guilty. Now it was Castiel’s turn to pass the sentence, and even though he knew it was immoral, he was happy to wipe the smug grin from Mark’s face finally when he imposed lifetime imprisonment in a psychiatric ward. If they were lucky, they would never hear of Mark, a.k.a. “Lucifer”, again. It was annoying enough when they had to remove him from the court, for he was shouting and threatening god and the world to find them and kill them all. Castiel sighed relieved when this awful trial was over at last – it seemed it had robbed him all of his strength. A few minutes passed, in which he idly watched the courtroom, how people were chattering and leaving little by little.

He took a deep breath, then he left the courtroom as well to find Jack. He found him sitting on a bench nearby, his care-taker silently sitting beside him. He gave her a kind smile, and she wordlessly understood his intentions as he made a beeline towards them – he wanted to speak with Jack in private. The lady got up and walked a few steps away, out of hearing range. With circumspection, he took a seat beside Jack, felt his big eyes resting on him all the while. He turned his torso towards him, gave him a kind smile as he took in his delicate, porcelain features.

“So, your father will be locked away for a very, very long time now, Jack,” he said slowly, whereupon Jack nodded. His mien darkened, his voice became somber, when he spoke to Castiel.

“He is not my father, Mister Winchester, he is a monster. I do believe him: he is the devil.”

Cas gently reached out a hand and squeezed Jack’s shoulder sympathetically.

“Listen, Jack. I’m not saying I know how you feel or what you’re going through. You’re very young and life hasn’t been very kind to you. You know, I lost my mother, too, when I was a teenager, and my father was long gone back then. For a few years, I stayed at the same children’s home you’re in now. And I know everything might seem bleak and hopeless right now, but give them a chance, Jack. It will get better; you’ve got to hang in there. And if you ever need someone to talk to, or if you need anything-“, Castiel said and produced his business card with his phone number – gently, he placed it into Jack’s smaller hand.

“Just give me a ring, okay?”

Jack looked up into his eyes, held the business card tightly in his small hands. He contemplated Castiel wide-eyed, as if he was one of the Seven Wonders of the World. He nodded mutely, pressed his lips together tightly. Once more, Castiel squeezed his shoulder amicably, then he got up and returned to his courtroom. He turned around one last time, saw Jack looking after him with questioning eyes – the boy raised his hand timidly and waved goodbye to him, making Castiel smile fondly and wave goodbye, too.

…

On the evening of the same day, Castiel and Dean had dinner together – he found Dean in the kitchen cooking them dinner while proudly wearing one of his silly aprons with a smiling hot dog on it (Castiel hated it and had threatened to burn it several times, but hey, if Dean liked it… they both knew it was an empty threat). He always loved to come home to Dean, appreciated their time together, especially when they could have a meal together. Dean’s shifts often didn’t make that possible, so tonight, Cas should have been thrilled to have his husband to himself for the whole evening and night. But his mind was miles away, still processing the trial of today. Jack’s big blue eyes seemed glued to his own retina, he couldn’t forget about the boy. For some reason unbeknownst to Cas, Jack had awoken his protective instinct – something he practically never experienced: When it came to Dean and when he got hurt at work, it made Castiel’s heart flutter with fear and wish he could save Dean from every bad thing in the world, that was the only protective instinct he had and was aware of; The feeling coursing now through him was akin. But it was strange – he didn’t even know the kid. Why did he care about him?

Dean picked up his ruminative mood as they ate their chickpea-rice-curry, tangerine candlelight flickering in their kitchen beautifully – Dean, the ever-helpless romantic, had insisted on lighting a dozen candles for dinner, and it made Castiel assume that (hopefully) his husband wanted to ensnare him tonight.

“What’s on your mind, honey? Tough day at work?” he asked kindly. Castiel finally looked at him, his eyes focussing on Dean’s handsome features. He must have stared into space for quite some time, his spoon filled with food hanging in the air, half-forgotten in his hand. He caught Dean’s worried look, his tentative smile, and it warmed his heart. He returned the smile easily, winked slowly at his partner. He nodded, then finally tasted the meal Dean had cooked for them. It was spicy but pretty good, so he hummed appreciatively, caused Dean to smirk happily. With his free hand, Dean reached over the table, placed his hand in a shielding manner over Cas’. He could feel the heat of Dean’s fingers, the warm blood pulsating in his veins, against his skin – for a second, their physical connection took all of Castiel’s black thoughts away. He sighed, decided to open up.

“You remember this murder trial I told you about, right?”

Dean frowned.

“You mean the guy, who believes he’s the reincarnation of the devil, the one who killed his own wife?”

Castiel nodded, stirred his curry pensively.

“Yes, that one. Today was the last hearing, and we finally locked him away for good. But, you know, what’s really messing with me is their kid, Jack. He was at court today to give his testimony. And he reminded me so much of myself after I had lost my mother…”

“Alright, but you didn’t have a psycho father murdering your mother,” Dean interrupted. Castiel smiled crookedly.

“Granted. But I know what it’s like to lose your parent and wind up in a children’s home… I don’t know, there was something about that boy I can’t quite put my finger on. Did you know he’s staying at the same children’s home I was in?” Castiel shrugged, unhappy that he couldn’t really find the words for the chaos rioting in his heart.

“I don’t know why, but it makes me sad to think he’s living there now. I think he’s too young to be an orphan, to have all this pain and pressure put on his young shoulders. When I became an orphan, I was sixteen – he’s only eight. And somehow, even though I have no reason for it, I care about him. It matters to me that he is okay. You should have seen his big blue eyes, his pale face, it’s just… I feel like I wanna protect him, if that makes any sense.”

Dean’s thumb gently stroked over the back of his hand, drew little meaningless circles. He beheld Castiel with incredible fondness in his look, making Castiel blush and look away. He felt as if he had presented an intimate secret of his heart to Dean, one that he barely dared to utter aloud.

“Hey, it’s okay, Cas. If you care, you care. There’s nothing wrong with it. Actually, I think you’re awesome for that, you know? You’ve got a big heart, you’re not indifferent to that kid’s life. That’s something good, right? So…”, Dean sighed, pausing for a moment. “Why don’t you go and pay him a visit anytime soon? You could check in on him, see if he’s doing okay, if he’s settling in…”

Castiel considered his proposal for a second, thinking he quite liked the idea. At last, he looked up, recognized the knowing look of Dean’s gorgeous green eyes. Their eyes locked, tenderness and affection for the other resting in their glances. Castiel held up Dean’s hand and left a long-lasting kiss on the back of his hand, looked up into his partner’s face.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” he rasped, making Dean blush shyly and give an embarrassed laugh.

“And you’re an enchanter, Cas, but I’m not complaining about you sweet-talking to me… Now eat your goddamn curry.”

Laughing, Castiel put his spoon into the curry, then he took another mouthful and smirked at Dean while chewing.

…

Castiel breathed in the spicy air of the afternoon – he stood in front of the children’s home he had spent many years at. He contemplated it as many memories of that time of his life returned to him. He smiled wistfully. The place basically still looked the same: It had received a new paint and was now dipped in apricot, and the black windows had been replaced with newer white ones, but apart from that, it was still the same building Castiel had known. There were three floors and atop a black shingle roof, and underneath it, thirty single bedrooms sat, ten rooms on each floor. He easily spotted the room on the third floor, all the way to the left, where he had slept and studied for school all those years ago.

He inhaled the fresh air and looked around the place, thinking it was well-kept, kind of appealing. The surrounding maple trees were an explosion of colors, their leaves plunged into red, yellow, brown, and orange. Autumn had come, blowing all the leaves from the branches. Dark clouds hung in the sky, and when Castiel watched them fly by quickly, the wind ruffled his dark hair. It felt like cold fingers brushing through his hair, and he shivered, wrapped his beige trench coat closer around his body. He took a deep breath, fought against the uprising nervousness within him, and stepped into the building, which he had called “home” in the past.

Inside, it was a hubbub – kids ranging from toddlers to teenagers were making a racket. They played in their rooms, the corridors, ran up and down, while their care-givers tried to either play with them or scold them for being so loud. Castiel stood there idly for a moment, amused, as he watched the children play. At last, an elder man approached him, his hair already gone gray – laughter lines were all around his eyes, wisdom and patience dwelled within the look he gave Castiel. It seemed to Cas that this man had worked here for a good while and that his nerves were therefore rather strong; he also seemed not a tittle bothered by the ongoing noise level. When he asked Castiel why he was here and what he wanted, Castiel felt all kinds of embarrassed and stupid – he just told him he wanted to check in on Jack Kline, that he wanted to make sure he was doing okay. The man wasn’t surprised by Castiel’s strange request, he must have heard worse wishes in the past, so he just nodded and led Castiel to a room at the end of the corridor, which was probably Jack’s; the door was closed, and in this part of the building, it was eerily quiet. The man knocked on the door, then waited a second before he opened it. Castiel smiled secretly when he saw Jack sitting there cross-legged on the bed, a book in his lap. He looked up with a frown, obviously unhappy someone was keeping him from reading – but when his eyes fell on Castiel, his whole mien lightened up, and a bright, toothy smile emerged.

“Mister Winchester! What are you doing here?”

The man, who had accompanied Castiel, seemed satisfied that Jack really knew him and was glad to see him, so he just gave Castiel a brief nod, then turned around and left the two of them alone. With circumspection, Castiel stepped into the room, gave Jack a tentative smile. He still felt all kinds of stupid for being here and not acting like a normal human being, but just looking into Jack’s blue eyes replaced this feeling soon with inexplicable joy. His small childlike features, his high voice, it filled Castiel with wonderful warmth.

“Hi Jack, I just wanted to, I don’t know, see if you’re doing okay…”

Jack nodded acceptingly as if it was completely ordinary for a stranger to check in on a kid he barely knew. A moment of silence ensued, while Castiel looked around the few square meters of Jack’s room. It was meticulously clean and tidied up. On his desk, his school books were, stacked into a neat pile. A bible was on his nightstand, and there was a wooden crucifix on the wall next to his bed. Castiel sat down on his desk chair and contemplated Jack, who still sat on the bed and now closed his book. He beheld Castiel with an attentive look, intelligent eyes, and smiled carefully.

“So, is that bible and that crucifix yours? An unlike décor for a kid your age,” Castiel noted. Jack’s smile became wistful.

“Yeah, they’re mine, Mister Winchester. They belonged to my mom. She always read to me and quoted from the Bible. I don’t know, it makes me happy to have them around me. It makes me feel closer to her, as if she is still there.”

His voice became choked up and ebbed away. Jack looked down, looking awfully forlorn and sad. Castiel bit on his lower lip pensively as he felt another intense rush of his protective instinct wash through him. How he longed to console the boy and tell him it was going to be alright, that the pain would subside…

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “my mother was like that. She was a believer, and I got my faith in God from her. To this day, I still consider myself religious… and my faith has given me strength in terrible phases of my life. Do you believe in God, too?”

Jack raised his eyes slowly to Castiel, his look piercing with certainty.

“I do.”

They became silent for a moment, just regarded the other curiously. Jack sighed finally, his shoulders slumped down.

“Mister Winchester, it’s really good to see you again,” he said, making Castiel smile, “I meant to call you anyway.”

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked with a frown.

“Nothing’s wrong, per se. This house is okay, the food is okay, everybody is friendly… but I miss my mom, of course. And they don’t have enough staff or spare time to drive me to her grave. I wanna see her grave so badly and say goodbye… It’s all I can think about.”

Castiel studied the boy’s unhappy mien, the obvious misery written all over his face, and his heart simply melted. An ardent love he didn’t know the source of grew within him, bubbled hotly under the surface. He didn’t know why, but he knew for certain that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for that boy. He just had to ask and Castiel was ready to give him whatever he needed.

“Get dressed and come with me. I will drive you to the graveyard. The car’s parked outside.”

Jack’s eyes lit up as if a million firecrackers had exploded in them. He grinned excitedly at Castiel and jumped up.

“Thank you, Mister Winchester!” he said happily, then he quickly searched for his brown jacket and his lace-up shoes. Castiel had never seen anyone getting dressed at flash speed. Stunned, he laughed a little to himself, then sighed happily when he and Jack exited the building and walked to the parked Impala. As a proof of his undying love (or so he had said), Dean had given Castiel permission to drive the Impala whenever he liked (ensued by lots of warnings to handle “her” with care and empty threats not to leave a scratch on “her”) – now the black beauty stood there in the drizzle, colorful leaves whirling all around her. Jack whistled impressed and touched the smooth shiny surface.

“Nice car,” he said, making Castiel scoff. They got inside and Castiel made sure Jack put on his lap belt – unfortunately, the car didn’t have any seat belts, only lap belts, but it was better than nothing.

“The car belongs to my husband,” he said with a meaningful side glance, then he started the engine.

“I have to make sure I don’t scratch her, or Dean will be pissed. So, which graveyard are we going to?”

“Woodland Cemetery,” Jack said with a lopsided smile. Castiel drove away and steered the Impala through Sioux Fall’s downtown with concentration, amicable silence between him and the boy.

“Your husband has good taste in cars, it looks awesome… it’s like the Batmobile or KITT from Knight Rider! I saw that ring of yours and secretly wondered if you are married, but I had no idea you were married to a man… How long have you two been married?”

Castiel gave Jack a quick side glance while driving, thinking he quite adored that cheeky grin of him, the vivid gleam of his blue eyes. Kids could be damn curious… He clicked his tongue thoughtfully, counted the months since their wedding ceremony.

“Well, we got married last year in autumn, so it’s a year in two weeks. But I’ve known Dean for a much longer time. We’re together for over four years.”

Castiel sensed the change in Jack’s mood, how ruminative and silent he suddenly became. His eyes seemed unfocused as he stared out of the window, deeply lost in thought as the scenery outside passed him by.

“My mom and dad were together even before I was born, so, something like nine years. But they weren’t happy. They were always arguing and shouting…” Jack sighed heavily, as if he was carrying the weight of the whole world on his young shoulders. They had arrived at the graveyard’s parking lot, and Castiel killed the engine, then he gave Jack a long look, wondering what was going on in his head. The boy finally turned his head to regard him, a frail smile in his pale face.

“Are you happy with Dean?”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile fondly about the innocent question, the gentle look of Jack’s big blue eyes. He nodded.

“Dean makes me very happy. And I think I make him happy, too. I love him a lot… You know, we have our ups and downs like everyone else, and sometimes we also fight, but it’s never that bad. Usually, it’s because he wants to eat chili cheese fries and I don’t let him. You know, Jack, sometimes taking care of your loved ones means that you gotta make sure they don’t die of cholesterol,” he quipped – he was thrilled when Jack laughed at that and the mood between them became less tense.

The cool autumn wind played with their hair and clothes as they strolled along countless rows of graves. It was unpleasantly wet and cool, and it still drizzled – Castiel contemplated Jack and the clothes he wore and worried if the boy was feeling cold. He let him lead the way, for Jack seemed to know exactly where his mother’s grave was located. At last, they stopped in front of it. Jack stood there as if paralyzed and beheld the photo of his mother engraved in her tombstone. Castiel had only seen the photos of her corpse, all beaten up and bloody, so it came as a surprise to see her beautiful brown hair, her immaculate bright smile. Kelly Kline had been pretty, and her eyes seemed so bright and full of life, it was hard to believe she had been brutally killed, that this light had vanished forever. Castiel eyed Jack secretly, his taut posture, his silence.

“Do you wanna be alone?” he asked hesitantly.

“No, it’s okay, please stay here.”

For a while, they were silent. Jack had his eyes closed as if he was praying or deeply lost in thought. Castiel watched him closely, watched the traces of pain appearing on his features, and commiserated vehemently with him. There was nothing he could do or say that would bring back Jack’s mother, he knew that – but when tears started running down Jack’s cheek, he dared to take a step closer and wrapped an arm around Jack’s smaller frame, rubbed his shoulder soothingly and pulled him closer against his side.

“It’s okay, Jack, it’s okay,” he comforted him as the boy started crying helplessly. With bittersweet affection, Castiel noted how Jack turned his body towards him, buried his face trustfully in Castiel’s torso, and cried into his chest. It made Castiel breathe through the pain overwhelming him, how badly he longed to take Jack’s heartache away. But all he could do was rub his back and hold him close, sharing his body warmth and his physical comfort. Suddenly, a bright ray of light fell on them, nearly blinded Castiel. He blinked against the white sunlight, felt the warmth of it right on his forehead – Jack let go of him and stared up at him with confusion as if Castiel was the source of this light. It was as if they were inside a pillar of light, separated from the rest of the world. Jack looked around and realized the same thing as Castiel at that moment: Everywhere around them, it was still dark, but here, where they stood, the sunlight illuminated everything, made it seem as if the withering flowers and trees were still in bloom, as if eternal spring had come. Then, the sunlight disappeared as quickly as it had come, and it became dark and glum again.

“What was that?” Jack asked bemused. Castiel patted his shoulder amicably and regarded the photo of Kelly again, forever smiling at everyone beholding her grave. He wondered what it meant, if it even meant something – but he was suddenly reminded of the time when his mother had died and when the same thing had happened to him. Deep inside of him, Castiel knew it had been a given sign, a path shown to him from above. He inhaled shakily, understood the magnitude of the message, instinctively knew what he had to do. He had been given an order to look out for the boy, and even though he was afraid, he was willing to follow the order.

“I think your mom just said Hi.”

…

Castiel returned home a few hours later. He and Jack had talked for a bit on the ride back to the children’s home and some more when he had returned him to his room. Since it was a Sunday, Castiel had quipped Jack probably had to finish his homework for tomorrow – he had been surprised to hear that Jack was a straight-A-student and that he always finished his homework in a jiff. Jack hadn’t sounded arrogant, rather annoyed, when he had told Castiel how bored he was at school, that he always read through all their textbooks beforehand… Clearly, the boy was gifted and under-stimulated; his intelligence seemed weirdly high, Castiel noticed. Paired with his polite, calm behavior, it was hard to believe Jack was only eight years old, he seemed like an old soul to Cas. Jack had also gushed over the books he was currently reading, and when he showed some of them to Castiel, he had been surprised about their mature content and their intricate writing style that even he found arduous to digest.

He was in a ruminative mood when he sat behind the Impala’s wheel and drove home, but overall, he was filled with wonderful giddiness. It felt as if he had been called, as if he could clearly see a purpose. It made him speechless with bliss. When he walked into the house, he found it empty and frowned – it was already getting dark outside, and the weather was terrible; the drizzle had turned into a severe downpour. Where the hell was Dean? He found a sticky note on the fridge from him that he had gone out running. Castiel pouted at that, instantly worry for Dean surging through him. Running, in that weather… his stupid husband was basically begging for a severe cold. So Castiel did the only thing sensible to him: He started cooking his famous anti-cold-stew (his mother had taught him the recipe) with lots of veggies and broth, inwardly muttering about Dean’s recklessness.

However, when Dean finally returned home, Castiel’s worry and sulkiness instantly vanished into thin air: Mesmerized, he watched Dean stumble inside and take off his wet shoes. He was soaked from head to toe and breathless, the rain having turned his hair a shade darker. Raindrops were glistening on his skin, his clothes clung to his body. His lashes were dark and wet, making him look vulnerable and sexy at the same time. Castiel forgot about the damn stew and walked up to Dean, fisted his wet shirt, and pushed his back against the nearest wall – briefly, he registered a subtle smirk coming to life on Dean’s sensual mouth, then, how his lids flickered nervously.

Before he knew what he was doing, Castiel lunged forward and pressed Dean into the wall, kissed him hard. Dean was cold and wet and breathless; but their torsos and hips collided intimately, their mouths slid together in ardent kisses, and it made Castiel’s head spin with aching desire. He let go for a second, scanned Dean’s features, and saw his lust-tortured features, how gone he already looked because of their kisses. He couldn’t resist his full, rosy lips, but tilted his head to kiss him again with all he had – with both hands, he touched Dean’s broad shoulders, squeezed him and pressed him hard against his torso. He felt Dean wince with arousal, heard his dark moan as he let Castiel kiss the air out of his lungs, make his knees buckle. At last, Castiel got a grip again and released Dean’s mouth. There they stood in the hallway, tightly pressed together, their foreheads resting against the others. They were breathing raggedly, their mouths only inches apart. Castiel sensed Dean’s clothes bedewing his, there was probably already a puddle forming where they stood.

“Well, good evening to you too, baby,” Dean joked. Gently he brushed their noses together, making Castiel smile.

“Dean, you know I love you, but you’re unbelievably stupid. Do you wanna catch a cold? You can’t just go jogging in weather like this!” Castiel scolded. He left a soft kiss on Dean’s mouth to weaken his argument. Suddenly, Dean’s mouth was on his throat; Castiel shuddered with arousal when Dean playfully bit into the delicate skin, then his tongue left a tickling trail down towards Cas’ collarbone. His fingers dug into the flesh of Dean’s back, held onto him, when Dean kissed his throat open-mouthed, his hands grabbing Castiel’s ass firmly, moving him against his pelvis. For a second, Castiel just stood there, overwhelmed with the hot waves of lust washing through him. He heard his lewd moan, felt himself become lax with want, as Dean had his way with him.

“I… I made you some stew,” he panted. He laughed breathlessly when he heard Dean chuckle against his skin. His husband let go of him and looked at Castiel as if he had lost his mind. He gave Cas a long look as if he wanted to chide him what a party pooper he was. Castiel scowled in return.

“Now get out of that damn wet clothes and take a hot shower before you become sick. You’re awfully whiney when you’re ill.”

Dean’s jaw dropped and he exclaimed an offended “Hey!” – but Castiel just grinned and pushed him towards the staircase so that Dean could go upstairs and take a shower.

…

They lay in bed that night, the world outside locked away. It was storming and raining, but within the house, it was warm and dry. Once Dean had showered and they had eaten Castiel’s anti-cold-stew (Dean had been grumbling about French fries, uncaring about Castiel rolling his eyes), they had decided for a quiet evening. Tomorrow neither of them had to get up early, so they had plenty of time on their hands. Before they knew it, they found themselves in their bedroom, cozily huddled up to each other. Golden candlelight illuminated the room, flickered in every corner – accompanied by the ongoing sounds of rain and howling wind, it created a homely, laid-back atmosphere. Cas and Dean were talking for hours, their topics ranging from trifles to religion and politics, all kinds of things. And while Cas had his cheek pillowed on Dean’s chest, Dean’s arm slung around his shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile, when at last realization about the current situation came to him. He had missed talking to Dean like that. With their busy everyday life and their full-time jobs, it was sometimes difficult to make time for one another and cherish moments like these. But tonight, Castiel felt relaxed and all kinds of grateful for the man by his side. Dean noticed Castiel’s ruminative mood, sensed his smile on his chest. He shook Cas kindly, pressed him closer, held him tighter.

“Hey, humor, what’s on your mind?” Dean asked, his voice gentle and quiet. Cas slung an arm around his husband’s middle and snuggled up to him. He breathed in his invigorating fresh scent, felt his heart flutter. A sensation of giddiness overwhelmed him as he breathed in Dean, held onto him, thought how much he loved this man. Finally, he found the courage to say what had been on his mind the whole evening.

“You know that I went to visit Jack today, right?”

“Yeah, you haven’t told me anything about it. I meant to ask you, but, you know, didn’t wanna push you.”

Cas smiled wistfully to himself, every clear thought escaping him, as he remembered his time with Jack.

“The kid’s great. I mean, he seems scarily composed in regards to what he has been through. Damn mature for his age… and I really liked talking to him. He’s so bright, you know? Straight-A student and all that.” He sighed, suddenly heavy-hearted.

“I think it’s a shame he’s rotting away in that orphanage now. Not that it’s bad, but he needs someone who nurtures his abilities, who encourages his high intelligence, gives him a home...”

Dean chuckled, hand-brushed slowly through Cas dark hair, stroked along the delicate skin of his nape.

“Is that ‘Cas the nerd’ talking, or is it something else why you feel so strongly about the boy?”

Cas paused for a moment, his heart tripling its pace. Dean knew him inside out; he couldn’t hide anything from him. Finally, he caved. He uplifted his head, supported it on his hoisted-up hand, and contemplated Dean. They were regarding one another with subtle, tentative smiles, the candlelight glowing beautifully in their eyes. But Cas didn’t even have to say anything. Dean brought up his hand, tenderly encompassed Cas’ cheek, his thumb stroking along the slight stubble there. A knowing look dwelt in Dean’s eyes as he studied Castiel’s features, his obvious affliction, the unrest of his soul.

“Cas, it’s okay. Say it,” he shushed, made Cas’ heart melt into a puddle of affection for Dean.

“I wanna adopt him. I don’t know why, but I love him, and I feel responsible for him.”

Dean smirked, looked away, his hand fell from Cas’ face down, lay idly on his stomach.

“I knew it,” Dean said, bit on his bottom lip. For a while, the seconds elapsed, brooding silence ensued. Dean had his eyes closed, seemed to listen to his insides and ponder about the words Castiel had just said. Cas was breathless, thoughtless, just felt this aching need making his heart bleed. Blatant fear was coursing through him. What if Dean didn’t want the same thing? And the fear was omnipresent, filled every of Castiel’s cells – he knew he needed to take care of Jack, couldn’t find any rational reason for it, but knew he had to do this. And if Dean didn’t want this… the last thing Cas wanted was to lose Dean. At last, Dean opened his eyes, turned his head, and looked directly at Castiel. A fierce fire was burning in his tantalizing green eyes. A winning, small smile played around the corners of his kissable mouth. While holding Castiel’s look, Dean blindly reached for Cas’ left hand, brought it to his face. He kissed Cas’ wedding band softly, nodded a little.

“Okay. If he wants us, too, then… okay.”

Their eyes were glued to one another, speaking of so many things they already knew and had thought about. That this wasn’t a spontaneous decision, that it was a life-long responsibility, that it wasn’t going to be easy. They knew all that, didn’t even have to talk about it. Cas’ throat corded up with joy, so strong, it was close to pain. He felt hot tears welling up in his eyes, sucked in a shaky breath. With his free hand, he stroked through the short-cropped, dishwater blonde hair of his husband, right above his temple. Dean leaned into the gentle touch, hummed appreciatively and closed his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Cas croaked, dumbstruck with unexpected bliss. “I mean, I’m not complaining. But I don’t want you to agree just to please me. If something ever happens to me, you could get left behind with a kid to take care of.”

Now Dean opened his eyes again, regarded Cas with a mystique smile. A piercing expression was in his green eyes. Suddenly, he averted his eyes, scratched the back of his head as if he was abashed. As if Cas had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He shrugged helplessly.

“You know, to be honest… I’ve been thinking about adoption for some time now, Cas. I just never said anything because I waited for the right moment. Guess you were just a step ahead of me,” he joked, grinned at Cas. His grin was so infectious, it made Castiel grin, too.

“Trust me, Cas, I want this. And I’m frigging thrilled you want this, too. What do you say you introduce me to Jack some time? See if we get along?”

“Yeah,” Cas said, laughing through his tears of joy.

…

Dean had cleaned the whole house all day, re-arranged trifles, tidied up the garage. His nerves were raw, he couldn’t calm down, had ants in his pants. A few days ago, they had signed the papers, had set everything in order, and currently, Castiel was picking up Jack to stay with them for good. He just couldn’t believe it, it still felt surreal. For the umpteenth time today, Dean walked back to the room they had prepared for Jack, wondering if it was okay, if Jack was going to like it. One wall was painted in baby blue, the other in elephant-gray, and the laminate floor was an imitation of bright wood. There was a desk, a bed, a wardrobe, just the basics for a kid’s room. He and Castiel had spent hours choosing proper decoration at the DIY market, wondering whether Jack would like them, if they weren’t too childish… there was a dark blue star attached to the blue wall, which was actually a night light, and there were wall decals with all the planets of the solar system, for they knew Jack had an interest in space and planets. Of course, they had also bought a few toys, but deliberately, they had only picked a few, for they didn’t know what Jack liked yet. There were some children’s books, felt-tipped pens and sheets to draw on, a box with Lego bricks, toy cars, and some board games, nothing too fancy.

Finally, Dean heard Castiel turn the key to their front door. His heart leapt into his throat, thundered in his chest. Psyched up, he fled down the stairs to meet them in the entrance hall. He tried to suppress the jittery feeling uprising in his stomach when Castiel opened the door and walked inside, one hand soothingly resting on Jack’s shoulder. His eyes met Cas’, and they smiled at each other tentatively as they detected the plain nervousness in their husband’s eyes. Cas shut the door behind them, while Jack carefully approached Dean, smiling hesitantly at him.

“Hi, Dean,” he said, his posture somewhat taut. Dean gave him a friendly smile.

“Hey, buddy. Welcome to your new home,” he said and breathed out all the tension, outstretched his arms invitingly. Jack looked around with curiosity, while Cas shrugged out of his coat and hung it up. He slipped out of his shoes and motioned Jack to do the same.

“We’ll give you the tour in a sec, okay?” Dean proposed. With a joy he didn’t really understand, he watched the gap between Jack’s teeth as the boy gave him a toothy grin.

“Yes, I would like that, thank you.”

Dean looked over to Cas, nodding his head subtly.

“Are you sure you picked up the right one? He’s so polite, I’m not sure I can keep up these niceties.”

Castiel scoffed and rolled his eyes, then he walked over to Dean and kissed him quickly, but ardently. Dean breathed in the soapy, lemony scent of his husband, felt how it soothed his frayed nerves. Cas let a bit go of Dean, his lips still brushing over Dean’s, as he looked him deeply in the eyes, unfathomable zest for life glowing in his blue irises.

“Baby, have I told you you’re the worst?”

Dean grinned, slung his arms around Castiel’s hips, and pulled him against him.

“Only once today,” he joked, delighted when he heard Jack laugh at that. While holding Cas close to his chest, he looked over to Jack and shrugged helplessly.

“Sorry, buddy, you’re gonna have to get used to this. Castiel over here is crazy about me, it can’t be helped.”

Cas took a step back and pouted, hit Dean’s shoulder in jest.

“And here I was thinking _you_ were the one crazy about _me_. Come on, Jack, let us show you around.”

It was a completely confusing emotion, a once-in-a-lifetime experience, to give their adopted son the tour through their own house, Dean and Cas going first, Jack’s quiet, slow footfalls constantly behind them. They started on the first floor obviously.

“So, this is the kitchen,” Dean said and gave Jack a moment to take it in. “Cas is doing most of the cooking, he’s the reason why we’re living more or less healthy. But if you want hamburgers, waffles, or chili cheese fries once in a while, that’s my specialty, you gotta come to me. When worse comes to worst, I can also cook a decent, healthy meal, but that’s no fun. So, I was thinking, to celebrate today, home-made hamburgers for dinner?”

At that, Jack’s eyes lit up brightly – he regarded Dean with enthusiasm written all over his face. It made Dean grin.

“Yes! That would be amazing. You know, I love hamburgers, but my mom basically never made them. She said they’re not good for your blood fat.”

Snorting, Cas patted Dean’s shoulder and gave Jack a meaningful look.

“Your mom was right, Jack. I’ve been telling that Dean for ages, but he’s not listening. Also, I gotta admit, he makes really good hamburgers, so it’s basically impossible to resist. Come, let’s check out the other rooms.”

They strolled into the living room, where there was a seating area, two comfortable big couches, and a TV. What caught Jack’s interest, however, was Castiel’s glossy black piano in the center of the living room, pushed against the longitudinal wall, and Dean’s acoustic guitar leaning against it. With admiration, he let his fingers glide over the smooth ebony wood, then his fingertips gently ran along the guitar strings. He studied his adoptive parents with reverence, sudden rapture.

“You’re making music?”

Dean smiled affectionately when he remembered all the charity events he and Castiel had organized throughout the last years, and how often they played together all the time, his voice, the guitar, and the piano mingling perfectly… As if to show Castiel how affected he was, how much it meant to him to share his love for music with the man he loved, he slung his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulled him against his side, shook him gently.

“Well, yeah. I play the guitar and sing, Castiel plays the piano. He’s really talented. But for the love of God, he cannot sing. If you hear him sing, just put your hands over your ears, or he will make them bleed.”

Castiel rolled his eyes dramatically at Dean, gave him a dark look, then he approached Jack and opened the piano lid.

He let Jack press down a few keys with caution. Suddenly, his right hand started playing a melody, his left hand soon joined him, and he hesitantly played Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy”, a very popular classic composition. Enthralled, Dean and Cas watched him, their jaws fell open. Jack stopped at once, suddenly aware of himself and what he had done – he looked up, fear in his eyes.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t,” he stuttered, as if he had done something wrong.

“Jack!” Cas exclaimed. “I had no idea you could play the piano! That was wonderful!”

Jack scratched the back of his head abashed and looked down.

“I don’t know, I took lessons a while ago, but I had to stop because…” he suddenly became silent. A pained, ruminative veil spread over his face, he seemed lost in thought. Cas’ and Dean’s eyes met, they mutely understood this was a sore spot to Jack – maybe he had to stop taking piano lessons, because his parents couldn’t afford them anymore, which, of course, brought back memories of his mom and dad. Castiel took a deep breath, then he touched Jack’s shoulder and squeezed it amicably, searched for his eyes.

“Listen, Jack, if you want, I could teach you how to play the piano. When I was your age, I had lessons, too – and my teacher was _very_ strict, she beat my fingers with a wooden ruler if I played something wrong. I can assure you, I won’t do that, I’m a patient teacher.”

Jack smiled softly at Cas then, a deep-reaching joy glowing up in his blue eyes. He blushed hotly and looked down.

“Yes, thank you. That sounds great.”

They showed him the big garden, the veggie beds, and bee pastures. Jack took everything in with infantile, silent astonishment. They ended up on the second floor of their house, where they showed him their bedroom, the guest room and the master bathroom, and, at last, Jack’s room. Stunned, he stood in the threshold, too timid to walk inside, until Dean gently touched the small of his back and reassured him it was okay. Together, they walked into the room; Jack looked around awestruck, then he let his fingers glide over the planets on the wall with delight – Dean’s and Cas’ eyes met, they stared meaningful looks, secretive, happy smiles. Jack seemed to like it. At last, Jack looked at them again, swallowed nervously. For a reason unknown to Dean, tears were welling in the boy’s eyes, he seemed upset.

“Thank…thank you both, I-I don’t know what to say,” he stammered nervously, wiped a tear away from his eye. Dean commiserated with him, understood he was probably undergoing an intense emotional turmoil. It tugged at his heartstrings to see him so wrecked. He took a step forward and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder, bent down somewhat so that they were on eye level. With emphasis, he squeezed Jack’s boney shoulder a bit, smiled wistfully at him.

“Hey, Jack, it’s okay. I know it’s not easy for you right now, and it might take some time for us all to get to know each other and get used to everything. And neither Cas nor I are trying to replace your mom and dad, okay? But this is your new home now, and we’re here to take care of you, okay? Now…,” Dean harrumphed, suddenly overwhelmed with his own emotions going haywire, his heart racing hectically. “What do you say you and Cas unpack, and I’ll get those hamburgers cracking?”

Once more, he received the toothy grin of their boy, admired the cute gap between Jack’s teeth.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Cas smiled deeply moved at Dean, then he approached him and left a heartfelt kiss on his cheek. Then he threw an arm around Jack’s back and led him towards the door.

“Come, we’ve got all your clothes and other stuff in the car’s trunk.”

Dean watched them leave the room, his heart thudding with a bittersweet feeling – something between pride, love, and fear, but most of all: bliss.

…

Having to take care of a kid, becoming a parent, it was the weirdest, scariest, and most rewarding thing Dean had ever experienced. He had been content with his life before Jack, had thought this level of happiness he had with Castiel couldn’t be topped by anything. But then Jack had come into their lives, and it seemed as if he was filling in all the gaps Dean hadn’t even been aware of - he couldn’t even believe their luck. That didn’t mean, however, that every day was simple and without difficulties. Also, their daily life had been turned upside down, their priorities and routines had changed so much, but it didn’t even feel like an endeavor. Jack was their son now, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if he had always lived with them. Dean could hardly express his gratitude whenever he spent time with the boy, or when he watched him together with Cas. To see his husband so happy, so gentle and caring around Jack, it warmed Dean’s heart with affection.

It was endearing to witness Castiel as a parent – it was another side of him neither had known before. And even though Castiel had uttered doubts about his parent qualities in the past, there was no reason in sight to question him. Dean felt strangely changed as well, more mature. He had accepted the responsibility for a kid now, it put everything in perspective. It was as if he could clearly see black from white, right from wrong, instinctively knew which steps to take to follow the right path. Just like Castiel had told him, Dean also sensed this calling that he was supposed to look after Jack and care for him. And how could he not? Jack was this incredible, gentle, quiet kid, polite, and highly intelligent, who treated everyone with kindness and patience. The gruesome events of his past hadn’t turned him into a wrathful child, but filled him with a melancholy and silence, which touched Dean’s heart deeply. Sometimes, he played the guitar in the evenings and Jack sat by his side, dreamy-eyed and blue, while he listened to Dean play and sing. It was as if the music was speaking directly to his young heart to an extent words couldn’t compete with – and whenever his eyes focussed on Dean again, Dean was sure the boy could directly look into his soul and find the endless love there it harbored for Jack. It was quiet moments like these, when Jack smiled fondly at him, his eyes glowing with the love he felt for Dean but didn’t find the words for. It made everything worth it.

With Castiel, however, the boy talked and talked without end. Dean often found them in Jack’s room, where Jack excitedly told Castiel about something new he had learned, and Castiel couldn’t help but laugh amused about Jack’s infinite enthusiasm. Jack’s thirst for knowledge was practically unquenchable – they found themselves bringing him tons of books and DVDs to devour.

“Give him two more years and he’ll study,” Castiel always quipped, and it always made Dean laugh and Jack grin proudly, the adorable gap between his front teeth showing.

Their everyday life had become an unforeseeable adventure – every morning, when Dean woke up, he didn’t know what the day might bring. Life had become so full of surprises again, and it was the most amazing thing. Partly, it was like reliving his own childhood again, rediscovering things he had liked as a kid. On the other hand, it was touching and exciting to see Jack experience new stuff and learn and grow every day.

They had a heavy schedule, which all of them enjoyed, as the weeks passed by in a heartbeat: Castiel taught Jack how to play piano, as promised. Sometimes, they had a music evening, when all of them made music together; Castiel and Jack took turns playing the piano. It had brought the tenderest smile to Dean’s lips when the boy had started playing the piano and he had accompanied him with the guitar, seeing him wince with sudden delight as the sounds of the instruments mixed perfectly.

Several times a week, Jack’s classmate Filip came around and the boys got up to nonsense. They were especially fond of Filip’s chemistry building set and did all kinds of silly stuff: making gummy bears explode, creating their own slime, mixing liquids that bubbled and gurgled… Dean prayed they wouldn’t blow up their house. Filip was a quirky, nerdy kid with a loud laughter and thick glasses, neither Dean, Cas nor Jack could help but take to him and take him into their hearts. It always made Dean and Cas chuckle when they heard the boys giggling and roaring with laughter in Jack’s room.

Whenever his spare time allowed it, Dean showed Jack all the things his own dad had taught him in his childhood. He took him fishing on the outskirts of town, and there, Jack had caught his first fish, leaving both of them clueless who was prouder about it. He was a little too young to learn how to drive yet, but Dean had promised him he would give him lessons in due time as long as he didn’t tell Cas. Castiel was unenthusiastic when one day Dean announced Jack needed to know how to defend himself and that it was probably wise to teach him some tricks – but when Filip returned from school with a black eye, Castiel accepted that kids sometimes were dicks and that Dean was right. So they showed Jack all they knew regarding self-defense, Castiel with his years of experience in martial arts, and Dean with his police training. Jack was a quick learner and thought it was great fun to wrestle with his dads and learn new moves. What neither Dean nor Castiel had expected, though, was Jack’s cheekiness – the boy played foul whenever he could, ducked away quickly, pinched and tickled them, and stomped on their feet until all of them were laughing and scrambling in a pile of limbs, Dean ruffling Jack’s brown hair playfully.

Then there were the more practical things happening in their daily life, filled with average parental musings. Dean constantly found himself wondering if Jack was okay, what he was doing, if he got his vitamins, if he needed a new hair cut, if his clothes were too small or too big… He couldn’t stop touching Jack casually, ran a hand through his smooth brown hair, fixed his jacket collar, wiped dirt from his cheek. It was as if he always wanted to make sure Jack was still there, as if he could hardly believe this angelic creature was still beside him. And Jack let him, always beheld Dean with a knowing, fond look whenever Dean treated him with affection, whenever he let his gestures speak the words written all over his heart: That he loved Jack, that he would do anything for him.

And yet… the bond between Castiel and Jack seemed deeper, sometimes made Dean feel like an outsider, as if the two of them shared a secret no one else could know about. He wasn’t envious of the love Castiel received, just sad that he didn’t have the same connection to Jack. After six months, Jack started calling Castiel “dad”, but Dean remained “Dean”. Whenever he heard Jack call Cas “dad”, his heart somersaulted unhappily, a feeling of trepidation stole his breaths momentarily away. Nevertheless, Dean was inebriated with infatuation whenever he saw how smitten Castiel was when Jack’s innocent, childlike voice called him “dad”, but at the same time, it reminded Dean that he didn’t have the same meaning to Jack as Cas did. It was a bittersweet brokenness, but he wasn’t going to complain. He loved Jack, and knew that the boy loved him, too. Anything else was just trifles.

…

It was in the middle of the night, when Dean woke up with a start. Confused, he tried to come to his senses, wondered what had woken him up. The bright moonlight fell into their bedroom, illuminated the clean-cut features of Cas. His husband was still fast asleep and snoring next to him, undisturbed by whatever it was, that had roused Dean from his sleep. He sat up in bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and listened attentively into the night. There. He heard it again. A muffled sob. Jack! In a heartbeat, Dean got up, rushed barefooted to their son’s room. Ever since Jack was living with them, he had bad nightmares at least once a week. And somehow, even though usually Dean slept like a log, he seemed to have a special radar when Jack needed him. A bomb could have exploded next to him and he would have continued sleeping – but as soon as Jack was crying or anxious, Dean was wide awake.

He slowly opened the door to Jack’s bedroom, saw the soft light of the bedside lamp. Jack sat there, looking small and haggard. He just stared at Dean while abundant tears were streaming down his cheeks. Little hiccups made him wince every now and then. Carefully, as if he was approaching a wounded animal, Dean shuffled over to him, sat down beside him. The mattress yielded to his weight. He regarded Jack knowingly, placed a hand on his back, and rubbed it slowly. Jack sniffled, rubbed a hand over his tear-stained face.

“Hey, champ. Wanna talk about it?” Dean said gently. Jack shrugged helplessly.

“I keep seeing my real father in my dreams. And when I try to fall asleep again, I still see his face.”

Dean rubbed his back up and down, with his thumb he drew little circles on Jack’s T-shirt, felt the tension slowly leaving the boy’s body. His heart leapt into his throat when Jack sighed and leaned against his side trustfully. His small head bumped against Dean’s torso. He allowed that Dean slung an arm around his middle and gave him physical comfort.

“So you can’t sleep?” he asked the obvious, felt Jack’s nod against his chest. For a moment, they just sat there on Jack’s bed, closely huddled up to one another, and contemplated the situation. Dean sensed a strange sadness growing in him, the sympathy for Jack was overwhelming. He sighed, straining his brain how to cheer up the kid and make him think of something else. His eyes fell to the mayhem on Jack’s play carpet – there were toys everywhere, most of all dinosaurs in all colors. Dean smiled a little to himself, remembered Jack’s ardent love for dinosaurs. Man, he had to read to him several dinosaurs books again and again. By now, Dean was an expert, knew all the different types and names of the extinct giants. Whenever little Mary was over, Jack and her binge-watched a cartoon with dinosaurs, while the grown-ups could have a cup of coffee in peaceful silence. A sudden idea came to Dean’s mind.

“Hey, Jack. Remember that old movie with the dinosaurs you saw in the store the other day? The one Cas and I didn’t want you to watch because of the age rating?”

Jack turned his head, looked up at Dean wide-eyed. Pleasant anticipation was written all over his features.

“You mean _Jurassic Park?”_

Dean shrugged, couldn’t stifle the grin. If Castiel got wind of that, he would be so screwed. But he couldn’t resist the excitement brightly shining in their son’s eyes. How could he possibly say no to him? He nodded and wiggled his eyebrows funnily.

“Yeah, since you can’t sleep anyway, why don’t we watch it? I have it somewhere downstairs. Don’t tell your dad, though.”

Jack sprung to his feet, grabbed Dean’s hand eagerly, and pulled him up. Any trace of sleepiness was gone, both of them were wide-awake now. Dean couldn’t help but feel this big lump in his throat when Jack held his hand, abducted him downstairs. It felt like a blessing to intertwine their fingers, to be trusted with this intriguing creature they called their son. On tiptoes they sneaked past a sleeping, snoring Cas, walked down the stairs to the living room.

A while later, Dean and Jack were munching on microwave-popcorn and watched the original Jurassic Park from the nineties. They had to lower the volume in order not to wake up Cas. Dean kept an eye on Jack, wondered if the boy wasn’t too young after all to watch a movie like this. Even he, as an adult, was still scared shitless about these damn Velociraptors, which were clever enough to open doors with their claws. But Jack didn’t seem afraid at all, rather thrilled, on the edge of his seat. He kept ranting about the different types of dinosaurs and what they were capable of, and it astounded and amused Dean greatly.

Dean didn’t know how or when it had happened, but some time later – they weren’t even through the movie – he and Jack had fallen asleep on the comfortable couch, his arm wrapped around the boy, Jack’s head pillowed on Dean’s chest. Like that, Castiel found them at the break of dawn. The TV was still running. Dean woke up, sensed someone glowering at him. Half-asleep, he detected a grumpy-looking Cas standing in front of him, his arms akimbo. A stern expression was in his blue eyes, but he couldn’t suppress the amused smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

“You didn’t!” Cas said, wagging his head as he looked down at the DVD on the coffee table. Dean grimaced. Damn it. He was at a loss for words. Cas had caught him red-handed, there was nothing to say. Cas grinned now, rolled his eyes. Playfully, he nudged Dean’s bare foot with his.

“Damn it, Dean. Have I told you you’re the worst?”

They must have roused Jack from his sleep with their bickering, for suddenly the boy mumbled drowsily into Dean’s T-shirt “only once today”; they all started laughing.

…

Dean walked around the house, searching for Jack. Dinner was ready and already waiting for him at the kitchen table. Jack often played in the garden, gathering stones and sticks, or playing in his child-like fantasy world as he acted as if he was a knight or a treasure hunter. Countless times, Dean had secretly watched him from the porch, smiling to himself about Jack’s endearing behavior. That kiddo really had an active imagination and lots of energy.

When Dean hadn’t found Jack on the lawn or near the flower and veggie beds, a bad feeling had grown in the depths of his stomach. He beheld the tool shed grumpily, wondered if Jack had holed up in there. Dean and Cas had forbidden him to go into the shed because there were all kinds of sharp-edged gardening tools and Jack had a strange fascination about the mowing machine, but his dads didn’t want him to play with these things. They weren’t toys after all. But, as it was common with all kids, whenever they weren’t allowed to do something, this only increased their curiosity further.

Rolling his eyes, Dean walked up to the shed, already mentally scheming the rant he would give Jack. When he opened the door, Jack was indeed standing in the shed, playing with fire as he held a matchbox in his hand. One matchstick was already burning and filled up the shed with a tangy, smoky scent. He let it fall to the ground and swiftly put it out, remorse and shock about being caught appearing on his features. Dean just couldn’t believe it. Swiftly, he snatched the matchbox out of Jack’s hand and stowed it away in his back pocket, scowling at his son.

“Jack, how many times have I told you not to play with fire? And in the shed, on top of that? You know we keep the fuel here for the mowing machine! Do you wanna blow us all up?” he swore his head off, his worry and fear for Jack overwhelming him. Jack winced at Dean’s loud words, it made Dean immediately feel sorry – with alarmed, big eyes, Jack looked at Dean, speechless. Dean was just about to apologize and try to calmly explain _for the umpteenth time_ why he was mad at Jack and why he wasn’t supposed to play in here.

But then Jack just ran way, passed Dean by quickly, and before he knew it, Jack was running away to the end of their property, and Dean was chasing him breathlessly, cursing on the inside. Damn it, damn it, damn it! He realized Jack was climbing the old maple tree to get away from him – it was rotten and Dean and Cas had meant to chop it down for a good while now. Jack knew he wasn’t allowed to climb it for this reason, but right now, he didn’t seem to care. Half anxious, half pissed off, Dean watched him climb higher and higher, until he was sitting on a big branch. Dean stood there right underneath the branch, his arms akimbo, and looked up, fed up with Jack’s cheekiness. He certainly wasn’t going to climb up there and get Jack.

“Jack, you gotta be kidding me! You know you’re not supposed to climb this tree. I told you, it’s dangerous! Now get your ass down here pronto,” he swore, raised an admonishing finger at his stubborn son. Dean wished for strength and endurance, because he hated to fight with Jack like this; suddenly, he longed for Castiel’s support and presence, because Jack rarely acted up like that with him – but at the moment, Castiel was gone to do some long-overdue grocery shopping, so Dean had to deal with this all by himself.

The bough squeaked due to Jack’s weight ominously as he moved and studied Dean apprehensively. Dean wondered if the bough would hold Jack – he was nearly four meters above ground level, and Dean really didn’t want Jack to hurt himself. If that bough came off, he could break a bone or even worse. Now Dean’s anger turned into overpowering fear, and he really, really wanted Jack to come down immediately, but Jack didn’t move, looked as if he was congealed to ice.

“Jack, come on,” Dean said softly, forcing himself to smile reassuringly as he raised his hands in a disarming manner.

“Come down, son, please. It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Jack appeared to mull over Dean’s words, about to give in and see reason. But then, all at once, the bough creaked loudly, and Dean saw the wood splintering everywhere. A dark shadow came at him, impacted his vision. There was a harsh thud against his head and he fell down to the ground, stupefied, not knowing what was going on. His head was hurting sharply, throbbing with every beat of his heart. Black dots emerged everywhere; the world was spinning madly. He felt something heavy laying on top of him, squeezing the air out of his lungs painfully. He couldn’t move, his body was paralyzed. Dean realized he was about to lose his consciousness; the taste of salty, bitter blood was on his tongue, a heavy swell of nausea was in his throat. Only his willpower made it possible to stay awake, his heart racing with terrible fear as his eyes searched for Jack. He didn’t know what was going on, but he needed to know that Jack was okay. Dean wanted to scream out his name, but he couldn’t say a single word. His eyes were moving more and more frantically, as he didn’t find his son. Desperation grew in his heart; he was sick with worry. Then the darkness overtook him, the black shadows intensified, and he passed out.

When he came to again, Jack was kneeling beside him, tears abundantly streaming down his cheeks. With a frown, Dean listened to the alarming signals of his body, protesting vehemently. He had trouble breathing, his head was aching, and there was a bad taste in his mouth, making him sick. He couldn’t move. But when he carefully looked down at his body, he realized what the issue was. The branch of the maple tree had finally cracked and fallen down on him, burying Dean under its weight. It was too big for either Jack or him to roll it off from him. He was trapped underneath. Dean’s eyes flitted to Jack, scanning him from head to toe to make sure he was okay and not wounded. He looked upset, traumatized, and was shaking like a leaf, but he didn’t seem to be hurt.

“Jack,” Dean croaked, breathing labouredly against the intense pain in his chest, “are you okay?”

Jack nodded quickly, then his hand touched Dean’s free left hand and held it loosely in his, warming Dean’s heart bittersweetly.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Jack stammered, then he started crying again, sobbing helplessly. Dean felt sorry for him, longed to take him into his arms and comfort him. His poor boy was completely startled and Dean couldn’t do a damn thing to ease his mind.

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy, it’s okay,” he cooed gently, his thumb brushing over Jack’s smaller soft child’s hand repeatedly. He didn’t know how long it would take for Castiel to return, how much time had passed since he had blacked out, but it was obvious that he needed to get to a hospital. Suddenly, Dean had an idea.

“Buddy, can you do me a favor? Try to get my cell phone out of my left jeans pocket. I want you to call 911 and tell them what happened, have them send an ambulance. And then you call Cas, okay?”

He spoke slowly and clearly, his eyes holding Jack’s firmly to make sure their son understood what he was saying. Jack nodded; a grim expression of determination suddenly appeared on his face. With his nimble fingers, he soon retrieved Dean’s phone from his jeans and dialed 911. Another wave of fatigue and pain suddenly overwhelmed Dean. He had to close his eyes, for the world starting spinning, made him sick. It felt as if he was constantly falling, even though he was lying on the ground. He swallowed down the nausea, breathed labouredly against the sharp pain in his ribcage. Jack’s wobbly voice resounded, as he answered to the operator’s questions. Dean sighed wretchedly, as the pain started to gain the upper hand. It was hard to stay conscious, he seemed to be drifting off already. Then he felt Jack’s timid, warm hand touching the back of his hand, how his fingers stroked along his skin lovingly.

“What’s our street name and number?” he asked confused, made Dean’s attention turn from his body screaming in the language of pain to more sober topics like simple facts.

“West Oak Street, house 2921,” Dean croaked, grimaced, as he tasted more blood in his mouth. Once more, he opened his eyes, even though they felt heavy as tons, and regarded Jack. The boy was still trembling, his fingers clutched the phone anxiously, and tears were welling in his eyes. Their eyes met, and Dean smiled at him kindly.

“You’re doing great, son, I’m so proud of you. You got this,” he confirmed his devotion to this wondrous being. Jack smiled and sniffled at that, the tears now streaming down his cheeks. Dean heard him sob then, his heart breaking at the sound, but he was blacking out. The void swallowed him, all sounds and senses disappeared. Then there was nothing.

…

Dean didn’t know where he was or what had happened – when he regained his consciousness, he found himself lying in an uncomfortable single bed in a room he didn’t recognize. He blinked against the sleepiness still tightly gripping him several times. Slowly but surely, he recognized two figures sitting next to his bed to his right side. He harrumphed, rubbed his eyes with his left hand. Finally, he realized it was Cas and Jack, who were looking at him with tear-stained faces. Dean frowned. Why were they crying? Cas looked the worse for wear. His eyes were red from crying and puffy; he was sickly pale and biting on his trembling lower lip. What the hell…? Then Dean’s looked over to Jack, who seemed exhausted and beside himself, sobbing and hiccupping every now and then.

Dean closed his eyes for a second, tried to remember the events. He sensed Castiel holding his right hand, almost squeezing it painfully, and it made Dean smile a little. _Cas._ Suddenly, Dean remembered. Right, Jack had been cheeky, and Dean had scolded him. And then the maple tree. And the rotten bough. The pain, the feeling of sickness in his stomach, blacking out again and again. Seemed he had made it into the hospital in one piece after all. But why were Jack and Cas crying then? He opened his eyes again and considered their son and his husband.

“Am I dying or why these long faces?” he quipped. Cas huffed out a laugh, wiped the tears from his eyes briefly. Then he beheld Dean with the fondest and saddest look Dean had ever seen. His heart was melting at the sight, all sensible thoughts fleeing from his brain. He stared into his husband’s deep blue, incredible eyes, and didn’t know what to say, was dumbstruck. Cas leaned a bit forward and studied Dean attentively.

“You scared the hell out of me, baby.”

Dean grinned boyishly.

“Nah, I was just pulling your chain.”

Exasperated, Cas sighed and rolled his eyes, but then he smirked at Dean. Tenderly, he ran his fingers through Dean’s short-cropped hair. A pleasant, tickling feeling crawled down Dean’s spine as he drowned in Cas’ gorgeous blue eyes, watched the small smile on his plush, kissable lips. Then Cas leaned down, his lids falling shut, as he kissed Dean with all his heart. Their mouths glided together intimately; a shudder of delight ran through Dean as Cas kissed him with the perfect amount of pressure, his incredibly smooth lips making Dean go crazy. Cas let go of him, beheld Dean while he kept stroking through his hair.

“You’ve got two broken ribs, a severe concussion, and a sprained hip bone. Congrats,” he deadpanned. Dean pouted. Damn, that sounded as if the next weeks would be totally annoying and strenuous. Suddenly, they heard Jack’s hesitant voice, turned both their heads to look at their son.

“I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you,” he slowly said – his face was a mien of utter misery. Dean’s heart cried out for him, wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he wasn’t mad. Their eyes met, and Jack instantly started crying again, hot tears running down his cheeks. He lunged forward and hugged Dean fiercely, placed his head on Dean’s chest and sobbed into it. Dean and Castiel exchanged worried glances, for they rarely saw Jack this upset. Carefully, Dean touched Jack’s back, rubbed it in a soothing manner while shushing him.

“Jack, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I’m not mad. It’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept saying. Listening to Jack cry made him almost cry too, he commiserated so badly with him. Suddenly, Jack stilled, stopped crying. He raised his head and looked up, brushed the tears away, and held Dean’s glance with a sincerity, that hit Dean right to the core.

“I’m sorry, Pa. It won’t happen again.”

Dean swallowed against the big, aching lump forming in his throat. His heart skipped a beat. He sucked in a shaky breath, smiled confused at Jack. Were his ears playing tricks on him or…?

“What did you just call me, buddy?” he said, his voice giving away that he was all churned up inside. Jack smiled timidly, averted his glance. His hand touched the back of Dean’s hand, he surely intertwined his small fingers with Dean’s bigger ones.

“I was afraid to call you that, but now I’m not afraid anymore. I love you both, and you’re both my dads, right? But I call Cas already ‘dad’, so I thought you might be okay with ‘Pa’.”

Dean breathed out a burst of delighted laughter, his and Cas eyes briefly met. There was a piercing look dwelling in Castiel’s eyes, a knowing smile played around the corners of his mouth. He knew what this meant to Dean. What it meant to Jack. Dean couldn’t hide his excitement any longer.

“Are you mad? If I’m okay with it? I love it!”

He wanted to sit up properly and hug Jack, take him into his arms and never let him go, he was so happy – but when he moved, a sharp pain in his torso reminded him that his body was hurt and that he couldn’t do whatever he wanted. Jack grinned at him, revealed the cute gap between his front teeth.

“You better rest now, Pa. We want you to get well soon and come home, okay?”

Dean and Cas chuckled at that; Cas slung an arm around their cheeky son and pressed him to his side, shook him amicably. Now Cas and Jack were both smiling down at Dean, who was still lying in his hospital bed – and Dean thought, he had never seen a more wonderful sight, his husband and their son smiling at him as if the meant the world to them. He harrumphed; a bit abashed about becoming so emotional suddenly, scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I wanna come home to you guys as soon as I can,” he said. Cas leaned down and kissed his cheek sweetly.

THE END


End file.
